Endless Story
by Yue Guang Kuroneko
Summary: Love can be easily broken when there is miscommunication. And it takes openness and forgiveness for a love that great to rekindle. AU KyouxHaru
1. Mienai Hoshi

**Title:** _Endless Story_  
**Written by:** Yue Guang Kuroneko  
**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** eto...PG  
**Written for:** myself, actually. I became inspired (finally, after 4-5 months) after listening to "Endless Story" by Yuna Ito.  
**Dedicated to:** Rii-chan. I don't know what I would do without you, Rii-chan! Thank you for always being there for me and making me smile, you crazy woman. :  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage!  
**Summary:** Three years after Kyouya had left Haruhi in Japan, ending their relationship, he returns to Japan to find Haruhi missing. After searching for her, he finds her working in her own law firm in California in the United States. Can love rekindle between two people with two separate lives? Or will the story of their love end? KyouyaxHaruhi

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES)...if I did, did you seriously think I would be writing fanfiction like a madwoman?

**Endless Story**

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter One**:

_Loving someone  
Is so much like sorrow.  
Everything's overflowing,  
So much that it hurts…_  
("Mienai Hoshi" by Mika Nakashima)

It was the first time in a long time she felt this way. It wasn't to say that she's never felt heart-wrenching sorrow before—but it's been a while since her mother's death and she never had any reason to feel like the world has ended.

Fujioka Haruhi was never the type to dwell upon the misfortunes of her life. She accepted them readily and moved on with her life, thinking of those hardships as steps that may help her in the future. Near or far didn't matter to her—she thought of them as experience that enriched her life and her mind. But never in her life did she think that she was going to suffer from heartbreak. Yes, that's right. _Heartbreak_. What a pathetic existence she was living. She was the same as the rest of the women on the planet—bemoaning over a man she entrusted her heart to, only to find herself weeping over the loss of his warmth, his love. She was a stupid woman. A stupid, _stupid_ woman.

But as she thought this, angrily wiping her tears away, she found that it was probably the most natural to cry over him as any woman would do if they lost the person they loved. Why was that? It was because he was the only man on earth who made her _feel_ like a woman. He invoked so many different sorts of feelings and emotions inside of her. He made her feel like a woman, like an equal, like a wife, like a lover, like a bird. He made her laugh, shake her fist at him in anger, cry. When it came to Ootori Kyouya, her entire being was in the palm of his hands and she belonged utterly and completely to him.

She had no doubts whatsoever that she will see him again—the same man he was the last time she saw him at the airport. He wouldn't have changed. He would still be well-kept, cunning, and professional. He would still wear those glasses that hid his dark eyes from betraying any emotion and that smirk—god, that smirk. He was the only man on earth who could drive her completely insane because he was the only man on earth she could never completely understand.

"Ms. Fujioka?"

Haruhi gazed up from her thoughts and her eyes focused on the American woman smiling at her through the door.

"Yes, Jeanne?" she sat up, straightening her spine and shuffling a few sheets of paper around as if she had been working when she had been interrupted.

"There's a call for you from a foreigner." Jeanne, her secretary, motioned towards the phone on her desk. "He's on line two."

"Thank you," Haruhi nodded to the blond haired woman as she picked up the phone. "Haruhi Fujioka speaking."

"HARUHI!" a loud, boisterous, and very familiar voice squealed into the phone. "DADDY MISSED YOU!"

"Tamaki-senpai," Haruhi sighed as she took a glance at the clock on her laptop. "You called me two hours ago."

"I did?" Suou Tamaki sounded a bit lost. "Oh, yes, I did! I missed you anyway! So how is my daughter doing? Have you been sleeping well? Eating well? Exercising?"

"Everything is fine," Haruhi said patiently. "Is there something specific you wanted?"

Tamaki was silent for a long moment. Usually, when she asked him this question, he would answer with a hearty laugh and say: "Does a father need a reason to call his daughter?" but today was different. She wasn't quite sure she liked this change; rather, she preferred his usual answer than this thoughtful, silent one.

"It's really none of my business," Tamaki began seriously. "But has Kyouya contacted you at all lately?"

At the sound of his name, Haruhi's heart leapt. It wasn't one of those jump-out-of-the-heart leaps, but it was definitely not a normal heartbeat and she silently scolded it for acting foolishly.

"No," Haruhi managed to say without any emotion. She was finished with him—why would he contact her now of all times? "Why do you ask, Tamaki-senpai?"

Tamaki was silent once more before Haruhi heard talking in the background and the voice changed.

"Haruhi," it was Kaoru, Haruhi was sure of it. "I don't want you to feel alarmed or feel the need to run when you hear this…"

Haruhi raised an eyebrow and said nothing. However, as Kaoru made no indication that he was going any further, she said quietly, "When I hear what?"

There was more shuffling in the background and this time, Hikaru was on the phone.

"The stupid bas—,"

She could tell the phone was wrenched out of the man's grasp and this time, protesting could be heard over the receiver. After a few moments of arguing on their part, Kaoru was back on the phone, clearing his throat quite loudly.

"Well, you see, Haruhi," Kaoru began. "Kyouya is—,"

"Ms. Fujioka! There is someone here to see you!" Jeanne called out to her.

"Look, Kaoru—I have to go," Haruhi said as she stood, straightening her suit. "You can tell me about it later. Tell everyone I'm sorry to leave in such a hurry. Good bye."

Haruhi didn't bother to hear Kaoru's word of protest or any other sounds their group had made in the background. She had placed the phone back down, disconnecting the call. She gazed quickly at the time, mentally noting that her next client was an hour early. Perhaps her client was desperate to file that divorce?

Heading for the door, she began to sense something different about her office. The air was stifling and the silhouette of the client behind her door was definitely not her expected client. Her client was a short, petite, pleasant woman. This person was a tall, powerful man.

"How may I help you?" she asked in fluent English as she opened the door. She stopped once her eyes were connected with his.

_Oh God,_ She thought to herself as she found herself drowning in familiar liquid steel eyes.

"Good afternoon," that damn smirk adorned his handsome face once more. "I'm here to speak with Haruhi Fujioka."

"Yes, that's me," she forced her voice to remain polite and friendly. "And you are…?"

Haruhi didn't need an introduction from him to know who he was. Anyone would remember those eyes from behind those annoying glasses. Anyone would recall that playful smirk that only made him look to be the devil himself. Anyone would know that this man was Ootori Kyouya.

--

Ootori Kyouya was pleased with himself. He had finally—_finally_—tracked down Haruhi's law firm. It took him months to do so—a ridiculous amount of wasted time. How could he have underestimated her intelligence? If Fujioka Haruhi did not want to be found, under any normal circumstances, she will not be found.

When she opened the door, he could see that she changed. Her previously boyish haircut had time to grow out nicely like any woman would want it, but it seemed she rather liked that haircut and kept to keeping her hair short. However, it was much more stylish (it was probably the Hitachiins doing) and it was obvious to anyone that she was a _woman_.

At that thought, Kyouya subconsciously clenched his fists. He won't ask for her forgiveness. It wasn't as if he didn't want her forgiveness, in fact, if he had the opportunity, he would get down on his knees and beg for it—but he knew that her pride wouldn't allow him to.

She did not need him in her life—he knew that all too well. Her blossoming law firm and reputation proved to him of that, Fujioka Haruhi worked independently as she lived independently. When he left her, she didn't shed a tear nor say a single word of protest. At that point of time, he thought that she would be fine on her own and that he, too, could return to whom he was before—to whom he had been raised to be. But as he attempted to settle down in England due to a change of business of the Ootori Corporation, he found himself losing focus.

All he could think about was Haruhi. How she managed to bring out a part of him that he never knew existed. She brought a_ man_ inside of him—one that wanted to love her, to protect her from everything. It was rare for him to feel that way. After all, protecting someone other than himself was unheard of until she stumbled upon the Third Music Room and broke a very expensive Rune vase.

In the end, he returned to Japan—as a man, not as a son—in search of Haruhi, only to find that she had disappeared. It was only then did he realize that he had been a fool to believe that his careless good-bye did not hurt her.

_Well,_ he thought to himself as he gazed down at her. _It's a bit too late for regrets._

"My name is Kyouya Ootori," he bowed slightly in greeting, his English slightly less accented than hers. "I…have something to ask of you."

Kyouya unconsciously held his breath as her dark-honey eyes studied him for a moment. He was always enchanted with them—they were deep and meaningful. They could see through what others could not. It was she who saw the lonely, helpless, anxious boy he was before and helped him to revert into a man who couldn't live his life without her.

How cliché.

"Ms. Fujioka…?" Haruhi's secretary seemed to have prompted her to finalize her decision.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "Of course. Please come in."

Haruhi opened the door wide enough for him to step through and she stepped out of his way. Once he entered, he noted to himself that her office was flawless. It was much like his own, except his lacked what hers did not. He wasn't quite sure what it was that his was missing, but he didn't spend any more time admiring her office or dwelling upon the thought.

"Please sit," Haruhi said in English formally. She walked to her mahogany desk after closing the door behind him—the desk was similar to his, he noticed—and sat in a leather chair across from him. "What is it you need to speak to me about?"

"Haruhi," Kyouya began. He paused slightly, deciding not to reveal the true intent of his visit just yet. After all…there will be plenty of opportunities for him to do so in the near future. "I am in need of a lawyer."

"What for?" she asked in a business-like manner, pulling out documents as if preparing for a case already.

Kyouya chose not to answer that question just yet and instead answered her unspoken one: _Why me?_

"You're the only one qualified to do the job, Haruhi."

When he left Haruhi back in Japan a few years ago, telling not to wait for him (and a few harsh words after that), he was so sure that everything would go his way. However, his elder brothers became overconfident in themselves and their abilities that they made slight mistakes that impacted his own mission in England. This shook the Ootori Corporation greatly and they lost a good number of important shares, including a huge chunk that was incorporated with the English businesses Kyouya had been in charge of.

His father, Ootori Yoshio, confirmed to them at that point that they have one, and only one, chance to bring back the power of the Corporation—and the son who helped the greatest would become heir.

The elder brother distanced himself from them, wanting to prove to their father that oldest was the wisest choice. But the second brother, Ootori Akito, became close to Kyouya. It was probably Fuyumi's doing not that he thought about it, but he was secretly grateful of her meddling.

Akito had followed their elder brother most of his life and did what ever it was that their father told him. He married a woman named Asakura Reiko and for the first six months, Akito told him, everything had been fine. However, soon after that, money began to disappear rapidly from the adjoined bank account and he found documents of illegal activity stashed away in their bedroom. He had her investigated and found that she was not the 'princess' their family thought of her to be.

Haruhi stopped rummaging through her papers and gazed at him, as if analyzing his intents.

"Please, Haruhi," Kyouya attempted once more, clenching his fists, biting down his pride. "I need your help."

It was as if those words were magical. Haruhi seemed to have relaxed slightly and said to him quietly, "Let me hear your case."

--

**Author's Note:** I have returned, everyone! Kind of. I've been gone for around 4-5 months because of writers block. Truth be told, I'm slightly stuck on this one too, but I suppose it's better than the other ones I tried to write. I hope everyone enjoys Endless Story as much as they enjoyed Kimi no Koe and Touch of Serenity, even if this one isn't as great as those.

Please note that most of my references are from the manga, not the anime. Yes, the anime is awesome; yes, I love the anime to bits, but I find the manga a bit more reliable, since it's by Hatori Bisco-sensei and not by BONES.

- "Fujioka Haruhi" This is written in the Japanese form. Last name and then first name. This is used in the narrative and is used when implying that the characters are speaking Japanese.  
- "Kyouya" I spell Kyouya with a 'u' and if you have a problem with it, I'm terribly sorry...just pretend it's not there...or something  
- "Tamaki-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai"  
- "Haruhi Fujioka speaking" Here Haruhi is speaking in English, therefore using the Western way of first name and then last name.  
- "Asakura Reiko" Original character. Won't show up very much, but will be mentioned from time to time.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	2. Another You

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** nothing really. I just didn't feel like spending my summer studying, that's all. I was inspired by Jane Austin's _Pride and Prejudice_ and was reminded so much of Kyouya and Haruhi that I simply just had to write something KyouxHaru.  
**Dedicated to:** Katkin's Diet because she's one of the people I'll miss the most when we graduate and go to college. I love you, Katkin's!! You're the greatest friend anyone could ever have -heart-  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES)...if only I did…if only I did…

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Two:**

_So many times I was alone and couldn't sleep  
You left me drowning in the tears of memory  
And ever since you've gone, I found it hard to breathe  
'Cause there was so much that your heart just couldn't see  
A thousand wasted dreams rolling off my eyes  
But time's been healing me and I say good-bye..._  
("Another You" by Cascada)

Haruhi sighed as she stepped into her apartment, shutting the outside world _outside_…where it belonged. She had a long, exhausting day and the only thing on her mind at this particular moment was a hot bath.

She sank into the water's healing warmth and leaned against the edge of the tub, letting the water loosen her poor, tight shoulders. She closed her eyes, seeing darkness and being comforted by it. The heat caused her mind to wander.

Ayano-san had rushed into her office fifteen minutes early in hysterical tears, demanding that she wanted this divorce and she wanted it _now_. Haruhi took most of their scheduled meeting attempting to soothe the woman and to find out what had forced her client to go on rambling in such an agonized rage. In the end, Ayano-san had admitted that she found her husband stealing from them on his way to make his escape.

"_Did he leave, Ayano-san?" Haruhi asked her._

"_Y-Yes," she sniffed. "I ran into him as he was leaving."_

"_His name?" he spoke up. Haruhi nearly jumped out of her skin—she had forgotten he was still there._

"_Pardon?"_

"_What is your husband's name?"_

"_Kyouya-senpai," Haruhi protested._

"_Hanazawa Tsumi," Ayano-san answered, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. "What about it?"_

"I wonder why he needed to know?" Haruhi asked herself as she opened her eyes, staring up at the foggy ceiling. "He left immediately afterwards."

Haruhi was never the type to hold grudges—heartbroken or not. She simply did not know how to handle situations when it came to herself and she was aware of that. He had left her alone, telling her that they could no longer be together and then disappeared. He did not bother to write her or call her, even as friends or acquaintances.

A few months after Kyouya's leave, Fujioka Ranka passed away due to overwork and exhaustion. At this point in her life, she could no longer stand to stay in Japan. There were too many heavy memories and she needed absolute concentration in achieving her goal like both her mother and father wanted her to. She wasn't just doing this for herself but for her beloved family.

Even now, as Haruhi soaked in the bathtub, she missed her father. He was unreliable, irresponsible, crazy, and he didn't understand a thing about her personality and her likes. He was very much like the blond past Host Club King, always making her wear "girly" clothes and bestowing strange fantasies upon her, but she loved him very much. Ranka was the only person in her life she could open herself up to without feeling intimidated. After all, she was an intelligent and bright person, but she did feel her share of insecurities and doubts.

She didn't want to blame Kyouya. It wasn't his fault that her life began to fall apart after they separated, after he had left for England, and it certainly wasn't his fault that Ranka had passed away, but somewhere inside of her, there was something _there_. It wasn't a grudge—she never held grudges after all. She just couldn't understand her own feelings. She had been so sure just a few hours ago that she was fine without him. He had been the one who chose to leave for England for the sake of the Ootori Corporation and since she had survived on her own without him before there was no problem in him leaving. But she didn't feel that way and she just simply couldn't understand.

Once she set her eyes upon him again, she could sense that something was different. He still looked the same, those same intense metal-gray eyes and that same cool smirk. But under his mask, under his layers and layers after continuous layers of ice walls, there was something alive, something passionate and intense—something that hadn't been there when he was at Ouran. It hadn't even been there when they were together. He was radiating strength, strong inner strength.

Ootori Kyouya, she knew, was never confident in himself. Yes, he was confident in his abilities and his capability of manipulating every last detail to his favor, but as for himself as person, he was insecure and he lacked the same suaveness he was well-known for. He never mentioned any of this to her—he never really opened himself up to her like any other man would should they be in an intimate relationship. Then again, that was what she liked about him. She didn't want to be treated like any other woman and he didn't force that smothered feeling upon her. He treated her exactly the way she wanted to be treated—as an equal. Nothing higher, nothing lower.

She remembered the moment he left and then the events after that. Tamaki attempted to comfort her and asked her to stay with him, but she declined, gently. She didn't want to use him. She didn't _need_ him in that way. She was perfectly fine even without the great Ootori Kyouya, so why would she need anyone?

Tamaki held on for over a year but Haruhi was determined to lead an independent life. She studied at Tokyo University like a madwoman, denying herself any leisure and pleasure before being recommended by her professor to study Law in the United States. At first, she thought she would simply study abroad and then move back to Tokyo after finishing her term as a student at UC Berkeley. However, as she became accustomed to America (did you know they wore shoes _into_ their homes?) and realized that there were many Japanese immigrants in need of a Japanese-speaking lawyer, she felt that her destined location was here, in this big bustling country of freedom.

_I'm starting to feel dizzy,_ Haruhi thought to herself as she pulled herself out of the bath.

As she dressed and dried her hair, her mind began to wander to a few years ago—freshly admitted into Tokyo University and deeply involved with Ootori Kyouya. They had been secretly dating during her second year and the moment she permanently stepped foot out of Ouran, they announced to their friends that they were dating. Of course, Tamaki threw a fit, demanding why "mommy" hadn't even bothered to tell "daddy" about the change in relationship (and how could a mother and a daughter date anyway?!) and the twins—Hikaru, specifically—were so upset that they ceased with their pranks for a month.

She smiled to herself as she recalled all of those events. Her father (her real father) was so ecstatic that she had chosen Kyouya out of the rest of the Host Club that he had even gone to Kyouya's mansion to invite his family to dinner. Needless to say, that arrangement ended up a disaster and Haruhi forbade him from going off on his own to attempt to "strengthen family bonds."

Haruhi scoffed lightly at that thought and walked out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel, dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas. Thinking back on those times was like picking at a scar that had not yet healed.

Seating herself out on the balcony of her home, she gazed at the unfinished painting standing on the easel, its colors dull and its subject lost to even herself. She had taken up on painting a bit after she moved to the United States and found that it relaxed her—especially after an extremely stressing day. After a nice shower, she would just seat herself in front of her easel and paint. It was a habit she nurtured throughout the few years without Kyouya, but somehow, she just didn't feel like painting tonight.

She was exhausted and wanted to do nothing but fall upon her comfy couch and sleep, and wake up to find that today had been a dream and Kyouya had not shown up at her law firm. She would continue her life as she wanted and never had to face him again. She had too much of a good thing to waste her energy with Ootori Kyouya.

The phone rang and she turned to stare at it, not quite sure whether she wanted to answer it or not. Shrugging lightly, she ignored its annoying ringing and returned her attention to her painting. She picked up an idle paintbrush, dipped it in some black paint, and began to dab bits of her painting with black. It looks like habits were hard to kill off after all.

Now the doorbell rang and she threw a glare at her front door, as if blaming it from breaking her concentration. She went inside again and opened it.

"It took you a while,"

Haruhi gazed up to a familiar smile and she smiled in return, "Jason."

Jason Hunt was a mixed between an American father and a Japanese mother. He had been raised as an American and spoke very little Japanese. He even looked American with bright, soft brown eyes and a mop of dirty blond hair resting on his head. The only part of him that looked remotely Japanese was probably the slight almond-shape of his eyes, but that was only if one looked closely enough.

He was the one who helped her start her own law firm (considering he had his own and business was booming for him) and encouraged her when she needed him. At first, it had been purely business that kept them in touch, but he had been dropping by lately just to chat or invites her out to dinner so that she could "get a breath of fresh air." He had even given her something on Valentines Day when she least expected it.

"Aren't you going to let me in?" Jason joked, shooting her a smile.

"Oh, sorry," she replied as she stepped away from the door. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I just dropped by to see how you were doing," he said, slipping off his shoes before stepping onto the polished wood floors with black socks on.

"I'm doing fine, thank you," Haruhi said politely. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'll be leaving soon," he wandered around the living room for a bit before stepping out of the room and gazing down at her painting. "Haruhi, what is this supposed to be?"

"Nothing," Haruhi laughed slightly. "Just dabbing paint onto canvas."

"Isn't that a waste of time?" Jason asked her as he studied it carefully.

"I suppose," Haruhi felt uncomfortable talking to Jason about her painting and her obviously lacking artistic skills.

"Well," Jason said, giving her one of his award-winning smiles. "I think it's nice either way."

"Thank you," she replied respectfully. "Is there something you needed to speak to me about?"

After all, Jason Hunt never had free time to idle around in other people's homes. He usually came to her home with something in mind.

"I suppose it can wait," Jason said thoughtfully. "I seemed to have interrupted you in your _paint-dabbing._"

She allowed her head to decline only the slightest millimeter before he stepped past her to slip back into his black leather shoes.

"Thank you for visiting,"

"It was nothing," Jason paused for a moment as if he wanted to say something before smiling down at her amiably. "Good night, Haruhi."

Haruhi shut the door behind him, slightly ashamed that she felt glad to be rid of his presence. Jason was a kind person, but she found him completely stifling and overbearing. His manners were well-brought-up and his looks were decent. He did, however, lack something that she couldn't put her finger on and whatever it was that he lacked, she felt uncomfortable with. Not wanting to dwell upon the thought much longer, she returned to her "paint-dabbing" without another thought.

She enjoyed living her life this way. To be able to return to a comfortable home every night and relax on the balcony painting and sometimes, simply staring out into the city. She did not allow her mind to wander—after all, who knew in which direction her mind decided to take her? There was absolutely no need to think about painful things, nor were there any need to reflect upon the past. Her only current energy was concentrated upon the present and the future. Her present were her clients' cases and her future were of a bigger picture but, of course, it did not include a warm family that she had wanted previously.

The lights in the apartment next to hers lit up and she only gazed in that direction for a moment since it had caught her attention. The apartment complex that she resided in was a high quality one but not quite as nice as a condominium—after all, the excess money she made was donated to various charities and such. She did not need extra money and was very content with the apartment. It was spacey but not too big for a single person. It was the perfect size in a perfectly safe neighborhood with friendly neighbors.

The sound of next door's glass doors sliding open caught her attention once more and she gazed over to find a familiar figure walk out onto their balcony. Once the figure turned and the light from behind them shone on their face, Haruhi could feel her eyes widen.

The stranger, too, looked shocked but however shocked he might have been, his voice was still as fluid as water, "Haruhi?"

"Kyouya-senpai…"

Oh, why was fate so cruel to her?

--

**Author's Note:** What an abrupt ending for this chapter. –insert sweatdrop face here- But, a cliff-hanger is an author's salvation…and a reader's hell. LOL. Anyway, I've been away for far too long for my liking! I hope you guys all enjoyed this reflecting chapter…and an introduction to some…competition. -wink- adieu!

- "Ayano-san" The suffix -san is used for those who are not close to you and is unisex. Ayano is also an original character—will show up a great deal.  
- "Kyouya-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai" Please note that Haruhi has reverted her speech back to how they were at Ouran.  
- "Hanazawa Tsumi" Also an original character. Will show up or be mentioned occasionally, but other than that, he has no huge role.  
- "did you know they wore shoes _into_ their homes?" Not entirely true. –laugh- I know quite a few American friends of mine who also take off their shoes before walking into their home…and all of my Asian friends take off their shoes in the house too.  
- "Jason Hunt" Yet another original character. Kyouya's main rival for Haruhi's affections. Will show up plenty of times—in fact, will show up SO MANY TIMES that all of you beloved readers will want to kill me. -smile-  
- "He had even given her something on Valentines Day when she least expected it." Please remember they are in America and not in Japan—therefore, men are the ones mainly giving Valentines gifts. In America, there is no White Day.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	3. When You're Gone

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** my first AnimeExpo! (Onigiri-san…it was so nice meeting you! I hope I get to see you there next year and we'll definitely hang out this time!)  
**Dedicated to:** Katkin's again…this time for making my 18th birthday a special birthday! Thank you so much! I love you! and to riingo and Katie-san for also making my 18th birthday a very special one!  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES)...my mind isn't as developed as theirs, I'm afraid.

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Three:**

_When you walk away  
I count the steps that you take  
Do you see how much I need you right now?_

_When you're gone; the pieces of my heart are missing you  
When you're gone; the face I came to know is missing too  
When you're gone; the words I need to hear  
To always get me through the day and make it okay  
I miss you_  
("When You're Gone" by Avril Lavigne)

Her tranquil mind was thrown into imbalance and the only thing she was capable of doing was stare at him with her mouth half open and her eyes as wide as a deer caught in headlights. She read about such coincidences in fairytales and romance novels but never believed that it could happen in real life.

_No,_ Haruhi thought to herself, _he must have known that I was living here…that's why he's here, isn't it?_

_Don't be so conceited,_ declared her other half. _Ootori Kyouya is far too proud to follow you around like a lost puppy. After all, he probably lost all intimate feelings regarding you. In fact, he might even have a fiancée or even a wife back in Japan._

"What are you doing here?" she asked numbly, fully realizing it was a very foolish question to ask but her mouth was moving on its own without her consent.

"I am living here," he replied coolly, turning away from her to stare out at the scenery as he leaned forward into the concrete railing, "for the few months before I return to Japan."

"Yes, of course," Haruhi answered, returning to her painting with earnest.

They were both silent, Haruhi deeply engrossed in her painting and Kyouya—not that she was looking over at him every so often—was looking thoughtful and seemingly thinking of something or another. Very soon, she felt at ease and returned all of her attentions to the canvas in front of her.

She had been painting peacefully, carefully applying dark blue with its lighter shades before Kyouya spoke suddenly, "I see you have taken up art."

"Not that I'm any good at it, I'm afraid," Haruhi gave a short laugh, not at once removing her gaze from her masterpiece.

He was silent for a moment, as if he was analyzing her painting, before saying quietly, "I think it needs a bit of azure in the middle."

Haruhi glanced up at him, completely surprised. He was never one to give straightforward advice. He returned her gaze with one that she could not decipher before saying quietly, "You should sleep soon. Good night."

Kyouya disappeared into his apartment and she was left utterly confused. He left her with a whirlwind of emotions and she remained sitting there for a while before she gave a sneeze.

"I should continue this tomorrow," she thought aloud to herself, bringing the stained paintbrushes inside with her. As she rinsed them out, she tried her hardest not to think of Kyouya as her next-door neighbor. There goes that plan of avoiding him outside of business.

_You sound like a bitter teenage ex-girlfriend,_ that annoying voice teased her.

She ignored the voice and resumed to her cleaning before retreating to her bedroom and settling into the comfortable bed. She usually enjoyed reading a bit before going to bed but tonight, she wanted to sleep. She wanted to sleep so that in the morning, when she awoke, she will find that today was all a dream and everything will return to normal.

--

"Fujioka-san, what am I going to do?" Hanazawa (for now) Ayano wailed as Haruhi set a cup of tea down in front of her. "With Tsumi running off somewhere with a great portion of the family money, I don't know how I'm going to be able to pay for all this!"

"Don't worry about the cost, Ayano-san," Haruhi was careful not to use the poor woman's married name. She did so when they first met and Ayano launched into a fit of sorts that took Jeanne a good half hour to calm down. "Why don't we calm down and—,"

Haruhi did not finish for there was yelling outside of her door and she could vaguely hear Jeanne's voice calling for her attention. She immediately rushed out of her office after excusing herself to find a familiar, rugged man in the clutches of a man who looked like a part of a police force.

"Is your client here?"

Her eyes moved from the large man to someone further behind him and found Kyouya standing there coolly as if he had not just caught Ayano-san's soon-to-be ex-husband.

"She is," Haruhi answered, eyeing the prisoner for a moment before she turned away so that he could not see the expression on her face. It was instances like these that made her fall in love with him so many years ago. He never showed any sign that he was a caring person and acted cold to divert people's attention from him, but he had a kind heart and, secretly, did what he could to help.

"What should I do with him, Ootori-sama?" The buff man asked, glaring down at the noisy bum.

"I need only a confirmation," Kyouya spoke, gazing at her. She could only reply with a nod before Kyouya said to him, "Keep him under house arrest, until the day of the court case."

"I HAVE THE RIGHT TO A LAWYER!" Tsumi yelled out so loudly that Haruhi was sure Ayano could hear him.

"Of course," Kyouya smirked at him, "if you can find one."

They left, Kyouya not gazing back at her even once, and Haruhi turned back to her office, thanking Jeanne absentmindedly. The rest of the meeting with Ayano went by smoothly and the poor woman had calmed down enough so that Haruhi could explain their current situation. She only explained that they had retrieved Tsumi and he will be given the opportunity to a lawyer. She never said anything about Kyouya being the one to find him or that they had placed him under house arrest.

"Thank you, Fujioka-san," Ayano bowed to her as she prepared to leave. "I don't know how I would be able to get through the divorce without your help."

"It's nothing, really," Haruhi smiled at her. "I'm glad I could be of help."

Ayano bowed once more before leaving and Haruhi slumped back into her seat. It was now in the late afternoon and she had missed lunch on the account of completing another one of her smaller cases involving her client's dog chewing up their neighbor's very expensive dress shoes.

"Ms. Fujioka, I think it's time for you to take a good break," Jeanne poked her head through the door and smiled at her. "You worked hard today."

"Thank you," Haruhi was grateful of such a diligent and caring secretary. Whenever she was overworked, Jeanne would gently remind her to take a good rest and work on her cases later. Not to mention, Jeanne was especially organized and knew exactly what she needed and what she considered to be useless.

She stretched, feeling her muscles tighten and then loosen. She should go to the grocery store and buy food to fill the empty fridge before making a nice meal for herself. After all, living by herself in America makes her slightly lonely and nostalgic for Japan. A home cooked meal will certainly ease that little bit of loneliness that she felt.

"Ms. Fujioka," Jeanne called out from behind the door. "Mr. Suou is on line one."

"Hello?" she spoke into the phone.

"Haruhi," Tamaki sounded serious. "Where's Kyouya?"

"He should be at home," she replied, stiffening at the thought of Kyouya being her next door neighbor. Why the hell is such a rich man living in an apartment anyway?! Shouldn't he be living some sort of rich penthouse that he had bought for millions of yen? "Did you need to speak with him?"

"Yes," Tamaki sighed. "I wanted to tell you—,"

He remained silent for a good minute and Haruhi raised an eyebrow at his unusual silence.

"Haruhi," Kaoru's voice took over. Trust him to tell her the important things…

"Kaoru," she sounded slightly irritated, "I would really appreciate it if you—,"

"I know," he interrupted her, sounding apologetic. "I'm sorry, Haruhi, but this isn't something that we can talk about over the phone. Tamaki, Hikaru, and I will be arriving in California in an hour—do you think you could meet us at the airport?"

She sighed and retrieved the men's flight information, scratching out the possibility of going grocery shopping tonight. After all, she needed to drive down to the airport to pick them up when they were perfectly rich enough to get a taxi—or, even better, a limousine.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jeanne," she said as she left her office, holding her briefcase in one hand and her jacket in the other. "Thank you for all you've done today."

"See you tomorrow, Ms. Fujioka,"

Haruhi took a breath of fresh air as she stepped out of the beautiful brick building. Jason had suggested that she started her law firm in this building—it was not too big, but not too small either, for a beginner like she was.

She turned back to gaze at her office.

When she was in Japan—a college student at that time—she never would have imagined herself standing in front of this building, in a completely different country, and as a completely different person. After all, she had planned to stay in Japan, become a lawyer, care for her beloved father, and perhaps, just perhaps, one day start a family of her own (but of course, that would be a long, long way ahead so she didn't dwell upon the thought much). She wanted to carry on her mother's dream, her career, and to experience all there was to experience as an adult, as a woman, as a mother, as a wife—all in its time. She was innocent and naïve and a child to not have noticed that things had changed between herself and Kyouya before he announced to her that he was leaving for England.

Now that she thought about it, everything was probably her fault. The way she fell for him, the way she allowed him to touch a part of her that no other man had the opportunity to touch—it was her fault she felt pain and she hated it. It only meant she was a weak human being…unable to move forward without feeling empty simply because moving forward would mean that she would have to sever all memories of Ootori Kyouya.

As Haruhi drove to the LAX Airport in her humble Honda Civic, her mind was focused on Kyouya and his being in America. Was he simply here to seek her help for his brother? She was sure there were plenty of capable lawyers in Japan who could help his brother with his case; so why did Kyouya have to use his resources to find her just to help his brother? There had to be another reason behind the case but she simply could not figure out what it is.

After a good half an hour circling the airport's parking lot, she finally found a good parking space and headed inside to meet her old friends at the baggage claim. She checked the large screens and found that their flight had already arrived and landed. She couldn't understand why such rich men would prefer to take a flight on a normal plane rather than one of their private jets which would be undoubtedly more comfortable and much larger.

Her eyes scanned the crowded airport and she found them without much of a problem. Tamaki's golden hair and his height helped her identify him very easily. Also, the Hitachiins' air could be detected around the King and she felt a sense of familiarity as she watched them walk towards her. These friends who had helped her through the toughest times in her life had arrived to her new home and Haruhi could not explain the feelings she felt. Normally, she wouldn't have cared much whether they visited or not, but after all that has happened within the last 48 hours…she was relieved that they arrived.

"Haruhi!"

--

**Author's Note:** Hello, hello! AnimeExpo in Long Beach, California has just ended a good eight hours ago and I finally found the inspiration to finish chapter three. Aren't you all so proud of me? AnimeExpo was so much fun! If anyone went, please tell me about your experiences, what you bought, what you wished you bought, what awesome cosplayers you saw, etc etc. I'd love to hear about it!

- "Fujioka-san" The suffix -san is used for those who are not close to you and is unisex.  
- "Hanazawa Ayano" Original character. Very sweet; married a scum. Will show up quite a bit in the story.  
- "Hanazawa Tsumi" Another original character; scum; horrible with money and women; will be mentioned and will show up from time to time, but is not too important.  
- "Jeanne Moss" Yet another original character; Haruhi's personal secretary. Will also show up a lot in the story.  
- "Ootori-sama" The suffix -sama is used as either "master" or "king" by servants, or those of lower lineage/positions in society

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	4. Incomplete

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** fun. I'm writing this at the airport on my way home.  
**Dedicated to:** Nyanto and Empress-sama for making my life online a lot more fun than I thought it would be. And for letting me spoil them with AX'07 presents (even though they really don't know about it yet.)  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES)...I'm only a lowly 18-year-old who likes to steal their characters and borrow them for a little while.

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Four:**

_Empty spaces fill me up with holes  
Distant faces with no place left to go  
Without you within me, I can find no rest  
Where I'm going is anybody's guess._

_I try to go on like I never knew you  
I'm awake but my world is half-asleep  
I pray for this heart to be unbroken  
But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete._  
("Incomplete" by Backstreet Boys)

"Tamaki-senpai! Kaoru! Hikaru!" she waved at them as she called out to them, hoping that they could see her so that she didn't have to waste any more energy trying to weave through the crowd to reach them.

"Haruhi!" Kaoru was the first to get to her and envelope her in a friendly hug. "America seems to have done you some good."

"You're too thin," Hikaru mumbled as he patted her on the head in greeting. "Have you been eating at all?"

"My darling daughter!" squealed Tamaki, sweeping her away from Kaoru and Hikaru and causing a riot. "It's been a while!"

It felt just like the old times—although they were missing their Lolita Honey and stoic Mori…as well as the mysterious Kyouya. But she won't think about it right now; it was a comfort to see these three again.

"Care to tell me why you decided to take a commercial flight rather than your private jets?" she questioned them with suspicion as they waited patiently for their luggage.

"Tono said that it would be an _interesting_ experience to fly out of country with the 'rest of the common folk'," Hikaru scoffed as he pushed his hand into the pockets of his fashionable jeans. "And he bought the tickets through Shima before he mentioned anything to us so we decided to give it a shot."

"And how was it?"

"It's crowded," Kaoru mentioned. "I don't know how common people deal with such a small amount of room to rest in."

"You didn't ride in the first class cabin?" Haruhi was surprised to say the least. She would have thought the twins found the normal cabins too cramped and asked to sit in the first class seats.

"No," Hikaru glared at a blissfully unaware Tamaki who was the most impatient of them all for their belongings to arrive. "Tono wouldn't let us."

Haruhi let out a laugh at their situation. Even though the twins were a powerful force as a team, nothing could sway the love of all things common and the naivety of Suou Tamaki. She knew that they didn't care to voice their feelings towards the half-French, half-Japanese idiot, but if they were open enough, they would admit that being with him was enjoyable.

"Look, Haruhi, look! The luggage is appearing out of nowhere!" Tamaki called to her animatedly and Haruhi could have sworn she saw a tail behind him, wagging to show its owner's excitement. "It's magic!"

She could feel the entire baggage claim staring at the blond fool and somehow, she felt embarrassed for him. After all, it was not normal in their time period to be overexcited about the baggage claim at an airport. It was lucky, however, that they couldn't understand a word he was saying and she saw only a few Japanese passengers laugh at his idiocy.

"Where does the luggage come out of?"

And so, Haruhi spent most of the time explaining about conveyor belts and the workers at the airport and then, that subject led to the difference between the Japanese and American airports before changing again to American customs.

When they finally retrieved their luggage, Haruhi led them to her silver Honda Civic and allowed them to gawk at the change while she placed their small amount of bags in the trunk. Kaoru managed to take the front seat while Tamaki and Hikaru were left to seat themselves in the back, grumbling in obvious jealousy.

"This is different," Hikaru commented as she drove safely onto the freeway, "being driven by a friend in a commoner's car."

Haruhi shot a glare at him through the rearview mirror—Hikaru still hasn't changed.

"I think it's nice," Kaoru seemed to have caught onto her expression and laughed lightly as he patted her hand. "Thank you for the ride, Haruhi."

"It's nothing," she smiled at the sweeter one of the twins. "Where did you say you were staying at?"

Kaoru fished through his pockets before reading the address in thickly accented English.

"You're staying at Kyouya-senpai's home?!" she exclaimed as the address sunk into her brain like quicksand.

"You know where he lives?" Tamaki looked horrified.

"Yes," she replied coolly. "He lives next door to me."

She could sense the wary glances the men threw to each other but decided to ignore them. After all, there was a reason that these three had decided to fly out to America without much planning. If they did, they would have called her ahead of time to announce their arrival.

"How is Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai?" she decided to ask instead. There was no point in inquiring the three about their reasons for staying at Kyouya's home. They probably wouldn't tell her anyway.

"They're flying out next week," Hikaru said. She saw him stare out of the window through the rearview mirror. "They had some business to take care of and can't come out here until then."

"We're staying for a month," Kaoru answered her unvoiced question.

The rest of the ride was silent but comfortable. They managed to miss rush hour by a half an hour and she drove freely down the freeway, listening to soft classical music that soothed her frustrations. When she glanced to her side and at the backseats, she found her guests fast asleep. Kaoru's head was resting against his hand that had been propped up by the window, Hikaru's head was resting against the window with his arms crossed in front of his chest, and Tamaki's head was nodding forward in such a position that she was afraid he was going to fall forward and hit his head against the back of Kaoru's seat. Luckily, he stayed upright until they arrived.

"Wake up," she placed a hand on Kaoru's shoulder. "We're here."

Kaoru gave a start before he replied with a drugged, "Already?"

"Yes," she said as she stepped out of the car and opened the trunk door. "Could you please wake up Tamaki-senpai and Hikaru, please?"

"Hey," Kaoru said in a stronger voice to the two still sleeping in the back. "We're here already. Wake up!"

"Already?" Hikaru yawned as Tamaki stretched. "That was fast."

Haruhi stared at the luggage that they brought. Each had a rather small-sized rolling business bag and a backpack (or rather, Hikaru and Kaoru carried the backpacks. Tamaki did not bring one; his larger bag made up for it.) The small amount of clothes that were fit into their luggage could last, at the maximum time limit, a week. She was sure that other than their Ouran uniforms, these rich people never wore their clothes twice.

"Thanks, Haruhi," Hikaru shot her a smile as he ran a hand through his longer hair. "This new experience isn't all that bad."

"I didn't ask before," Haruhi mentioned as they were joined by Kaoru and a sleepy Tamaki. "But is that all you're bringing for the month?"

"Oh, we had the rest of our stuff shipped to Kyouya-senpai," Kaoru smirked, "since we couldn't carry it all on the plane."

"I see," Haruhi raised an eyebrow at them but said nothing else. Rich people were difficult to understand, so she didn't put forth any effort in trying to understand them.

They grabbed their bags (stating clearly that they were grown men now and didn't need any of her assistance—and could live without servants for a few hours) before she led them up to the elevators and then to the apartment next to hers.

"This is Kyouya-senpai's apartment," she said as she gave a slight knock on the door. "The one on the left is mine."

"Thank you, Haruhi!" The twins said in rough English as they saluted her. "We'll come and visit you whenever we have the time!"

"You have plenty of time," Haruhi mumbled underneath her breath. "I'll see you later then."

Before she could turn and walk away, the door opened and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest as a reflex. He was standing in front of her, shirtless, with a towel thrown over his shoulder and his breathing ragged. In her mind, she knew that he had been exercising (he picked up this habit during his second year of university) because he always did during this time of day, but she felt as if she had been intruding upon his privacy, today even more so.

"You're here early," he said, gazing upon the group with stormy eyes.

"Kyouya! Why aren't you greeting your old friends properly?!" Tamaki gave Kyouya a hysterical lecture. "We haven't seen each other for years and that's all you can say to us?!"

"How are you?" Kyouya asked in a bored and drawling voice, satisfying the half-French man. "Come in."

Haruhi silently pulled herself away from the group and froze once she heard him speak to her, "Why don't you come in as well, Haruhi?"

"Thank you," she replied politely. "But I have—,"

"You're finished with work already, aren't you?" he raised an elegant eyebrow at her. "Shouldn't you at least see whether they settle down or not?"

She clenched her fists and loosened them once she realized that her nails were digging into her palm. She smiled at him as she turned and said quietly, "Then please excuse my intrusion."

Stepping past him delicately (after all, she was treading upon enemy grounds), she slipped off her shoes and stepped onto the polished wooden floors. His home was what she would have imagined it to be. It was spacious, not at all cluttered with unnecessary furniture or anything that may make him seem overly rich, and clean. She knew very well that, as much as he preferred organization and neatness, he was not the type to clean his own home—this helped her conclude that even though he was living in an apartment (however luxurious it may seem…after all, it was _still_ an apartment) he had a maid to clean for him. The walls were whitewashed and the black leather couches stood out in a peaceful contrast. Only Ootori Kyouya could make such contrasting colors seem natural together.

"Despite this being a commoner's apartment complex," Kaoru started.

"…it certainly does have a nice feel to it," Hikaru finished for his twin. They gazed at each other and gave a nod. "We like it."

"Although, why did you decide to rent an apartment, Kyouya-senpai?" Kaoru asked the question she had been dying to ask.

Haruhi forced herself to look interested in her surroundings. After all, Kyouya's home was certainly arranged very well and she immediately felt comfortable in it, but she certainly didn't want Kyouya to know that. Not to mention, if she showed any interest in his answer at all, he'd know that his presence was questioned in her mind. And why wouldn't it be?!

"No particular reason," he answered simply. He answered so simply, in fact, that Haruhi could tell right away that it was an outright lie.

"KYOUYA! WHAT IS THIS AMAZING CONTRAPTION?" Tamaki called out from the kitchen, which was beyond the counter that separated the dining and living room from the simple kitchen.

"It's called an 'electric can opener'," Kyouya sighed as he left the twins and herself in the living room. "Don't touch anything you've never seen before, Tamaki. Remember the last time you did that with the meat tenderizer? You nearly put a hole through the counter."

"That's suspicious, isn't it?" she could hear Hikaru say to Kaoru loudly. "Kyouya-senpai never does anything without a reason."

"Is your home like this one, Haruhi?" Kaoru asked, elbowing Hikaru slightly in the ribs for speaking so loudly.

"Not nearly as big," she said as she walked over to the French doors (something she was sure Kyouya had put in himself since her own doors were simple sliding doors). She pushed them open and walked out into the balcony. "But I find it comfortable just the same."

"It's just like you to find it comfortable," Kaoru laughed as Hikaru joined Tamaki and Kyouya in the kitchen. "You're not very picky, Haruhi."

Haruhi laughed as she took a breath of fresh air, gazing over at her own terrace. Her home seemed so far away even if she was standing just next door. She was standing in the same apartment complex, only a few feet away from her own home but she could have been standing somewhere, thousands of miles away, and she would have felt the distance to be the same. This didn't feel like reality—it was probably all an illusion that her mind has tricked her into believing. This must have been why she felt surreal.

Of all the apartment complexes in Long Beach, why did Kyouya end up choosing hers? Of all universities in Japan, why did she end up going to the same one as Kyouya? She wanted to think of it as some sort of coincidence or just her general bad luck but after seeing him again in a country that even she never thought she was going to live in, she realized it was something deeper. Something she simply couldn't understand or explain. Then again, if she could stay out of his way until he leaves, she probably wouldn't have to worry about it very much.

"Kaoru," she spoke up as he joined her outside, enjoying the nice Californian breeze. "You still owe me an explanation."

Kaoru gave a short laugh, "You never give up, do you?"

"Normally, I wouldn't care," she explained, closing her eyes to feel the wind. "But I want an answer now."

"I'm afraid I can't give you the answer yet," Kaoru stretched before leaning against the railing as Kyouya had done the night before. "Things aren't settled yet and we left last minute, so we really didn't have anything planned out…"

"Then why are you staying with Kyouya-senpai?" she asked him suspiciously, turning to gaze at the handsome twin. "Did he force you to come?"

"No," Kaoru answered gently. "You shouldn't be so suspicious of him, Haruhi."

"It's not like I want to be," she retorted underneath her breath. "But can you blame me for thinking like that?"

"Of course not," he replied quickly. "I can certainly understand why you may feel this way, but our coming here wasn't Kyouya-senpai's idea. It was our own decision."

She sighed, knowing that getting a direct answer was out of the question. If Kaoru said that it wasn't Kyouya's fault, then she was sure that it wasn't his fault. But still…

"Hey," she heard Kyouya say smoothly at the doors, _still_ shirtless; doesn't the man know how to put on a shirt? "Why don't you stay for dinner?"

--

**Author's Note:** I'm spoiling you guys. Lmao. Just kidding. Anyway, after AnimeExpo, I felt my inner writer burst into flames again! YAY FOR MY MUSE! So here is chapter four. Nothing too much in this one either…we just found out that the twins and Tamaki have matured (holy crap, what did I do to them!?) and Kyouya's his sexy, smooth self as usual. We'll just have to wait for the next chapter to see what Kyouya wants, right?

-"Tamaki-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai"  
- "Lolita" A style similar to those of Victorian porcelain dolls. Used here meaning cute and doll-like.  
- "Tono" is translated roughly into "lord" or "milord" and that's what the twins call Tamaki.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	5. December Love

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG-13 for some rough language.  
**Written for:** my constant reviewers…crashx, LiTOSWTAZN, IceDevine, Amnoying Ammii, and SerenaGoodkey! Thank you all for always reading and reviewing and encouraging me! -sends you all lots of love-  
**Dedicated to:** Gackt (yes, I know, I'm stupid because he's never going to read this) because I love him and his music and I'm so utterly obsessed about him that I'd dedicate this chapter to him. And his songs are awesome! (Yeah, I'm a total fangirl. Lmao)  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES)...if I did, you would see Kyouya everywhere in the manga and the anime!

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Five:**

_Now I am here, all alone  
Remembering the time we used to laugh together  
in the fall of the cold  
I still think of you,  
Wondering if you feel the same_

_Save, your smile for me,  
even although you cry for me  
Remember me and love me always_

_Love, and smile for me,  
Hold on to all that we had  
remembering and love me again_  
("December Love" by Gackt)

Haruhi wasn't quite sure what he wanted—nor did she want to know. What she _was_ sure of, however, was that there was no way in seven hells she was going to accept his offer to dine with him. Granted, the insane trio was going to be there, but she was not going to endanger herself by staying in his presence any more than necessary.

"I'm fine," she said, taking a step back to keep a certain amount of distance between them.

"Oh, come on, Haruhi!" Hikaru joined them on the balcony with two glasses of expensive wine in his hands. He handed one to Kaoru and the other to herself, to which she declined politely. He shrugged as he took a sip. "You could at least join us for dinner."

"Yes!" Tamaki pranced in their general direction, looking like an excited puppy. "We'd be so happy if you joined us, Haruhi!"

"Really," she said firmly, "I'm fine. I still have some work to do—,"

"We're ordering ootoro," Hikaru gave her a mischievous smirk. "Are you sure that work can't wait?"

_Damn them_, she thought, glaring at the potted plant sitting behind the opened French doors with malice. _They still think of me as a huge glutton._

"I'm sure," she repeated with a confident smile. There was no way they could tempt her now…

"We're having fugu ordered as well," Kyouya mentioned with a secretive smirk that she caught. "Surely that work can wait."

She shot the smirking man a dangerous glare but that didn't faze him. He only continued to tease her with his laughing eyes and she bit her lips before sighing in defeat, "Just this once."

"So you like fugu now, Haruhi?" Kaoru asked her as Tamaki and Kyouya headed back inside (Kyouya throwing one last smirk in her general direction). "I suppose you got sick of ootoro."

"How does_ he_ know?" She heard Hikaru mutter angrily to himself. "It's not like he did anything to keep in contact with her."

Haruhi looked away as Kaoru elbowed Hikaru in the ribs harder this time, causing Hikaru to nearly spit out the wine he had been drinking. She knew that, even though Hikaru made sense, he was wrong in assuming that Kyouya knew nothing of her fascination with the expensive Japanese dish.

Their last meal together as a couple was at a famous, and very expensive, sushi restaurant. Once she had found out, she protested that she was not going to take even a step into the fancy building. After all, she preferred cheaper places to dine and there was no reason for him to take her to such an overpriced place to eat.

"_Just this once," he tried to persuade her as she sat in the limo, determined not to let any of his words budge her. _

"_Kyouya, there's really no need to eat at such an expensive—," she was cut off._

"_Please, Haruhi."_

Those words hit her in the chest and when she gazed up to take a close look at his face, she suddenly realized that there was a special reason as to why he would take her to a place that could also be considered 'special'. Only, now that she thought about it, she wished wholeheartedly that she had refused.

"If you don't want to stay, Haruhi," Kaoru began, snapping her out of her bitter reverie, "you really don't have to."

"It's all right," she smiled at him and at Hikaru. "It's to celebrate your arrival."

"That's right!" Hikaru cheered, placing an arm around her shoulders. "It's because you missed us too much, right?"

Haruhi only laughed at his question but said nothing as they headed back inside (leaving the French doors open to allow the fresh, salty ocean air to circulate about Kyouya's apartment). She didn't want to leave the balcony—it was the farthest place from where _he_ was—but having Hikaru's arm steer her firmly away from her sanctuary, she had no choice but to comply.

Tamaki and Kyouya were seated on the couch, talking (rather, Tamaki was doing the animated talking as Kyouya listened with half an ear as he gazed through a book) while she and Hikaru seated across from them, joining in on their conversation. She was silent most of the conversation and only joined in when Hikaru asked her a question. Otherwise, she didn't bother herself in trying to look interested in what they were talking about. It was all reminiscing in the past…and that was the one thing she wanted to erase from her mind.

"Kyouya, did you call the restaurant yet?" Tamaki turned to the now-dressed man as he ran a hand through his hair.

"They'll arrive within the next five minutes," Kyouya said as he flipped through his book. "Have some patience, Tamaki."

"Aren't you excited, Haruhi?" Tamaki's tail was wagging again. "To spend time with everyone again?"

"We're missing Mori-senpai and Hani-senpai," Haruhi pointed out as Kaoru now joined them in the living room. He had been standing outside in idle thought for a while before Hikaru went to drag him back in. As he passed her, Haruhi could catch the faint scent of the lingering ocean waves on his clothes.

"We told you they'll join us next week," Hikaru gave her a bright smile. "So just enjoy some time with us!"

_It's not as easy as you think,_ Haruhi thought with a grim sigh, sneaking a glance at Kyouya. He seemed strangely engrossed in his book and seemed very detached from everyone else. Now that she observed closely, he had closed himself off, but even Tamaki and the twins seemed slightly different in front of him.

A knock came at the door and Tamaki was the first to reach the door.

"COME IN!" he sang to who he thought were the chefs as he threw the door open.

"Um, excuse me," Haruhi recognized this voice as they spoke in fluent English. "Do you happen to know whether a Haruhi Fujioka will be home soon or not?"

"Who are you?" Kyouya asked in equally fluent English, his eyes narrowing as he stood from his seat to greet the man.

"I'm Jason Hunt," he declared. It sounded to Haruhi as if he felt slightly intimidated by Kyouya's presence. Then again, who wouldn't be?

"And what are you to her?"

That question seemed to have thrown Jason off. Due to Tamaki and Kyouya's tall heights, she couldn't make out his expression, but she was sure that there was a look of bewilderment on Jason's face. After all, why would her neighbors inquire him about his relationship with her?

"He's a friend," she spoke up, standing from her seat and making her way towards them. "He helped me establish my law firm." She smiled weakly up at Tamaki and Kyouya as she pushed past them and stood in front of Jason as if to protect him from any potential punches that might be thrown at him.

"Why don't you invite him in, Kyouya-senpai?" Kaoru asked him in a tone that she could not decipher. "After all, the more the merrier,"

"Yeah, right," Hikaru's tone seemed clearly unhappy.

"Yes, yes!" Tamaki twirled around. "I'd love to meet one of Haruhi's friends!"

"No, no," Jason said quickly. "I'm fine. I just needed to speak to Haruhi…"

"And this couldn't wait until later?" Hikaru smiled at him as he joined them at the door, his tone different from before. She was sure he was up to something. "You should come in. We'd love to get to know Haruhi's _American_ friends."

Haruhi winced as she heard the way he emphasized 'American'. Why did Jason have such horrible timing?

It seemed as if Jason was quick to catch onto Hikaru's hostile tone and said smoothly, "And I assume you are her _Japanese_ friends?"

"Yes, we are," Kaoru quickly cut in and pulled Hikaru away as the other struggled to keep his temper. "Why don't you come in?"

"Don't mind if I do," Jason shot a glare up at Kyouya who only returned the hostility with cold indifference.

Once Jason entered Kyouya's apartment, Haruhi felt the color drain out of her face. It was like seeing a harmless little mouse walking into the clutches of a dangerous black cat, with its silver eyes watching its prey carefully and its mind calculating the best time to pounce on the poor thing to kill it with one swift snap of its jaws. It was a frightening feeling and she had to resist the urge to pull Jason out of the room.

"What are you standing there for?" Jason asked, turning back to look at her. "Come on."

He stalked towards her, grabbed her hand, and all but dragged her inside with him. She could see the death glares that the twins sent his way and she quickly pulled out of his grasp.

"Thank you," she smiled up weakly at him. She had to keep the peace between him and the twins…and if possible, Kyouya.

"Ah, Ootori-sama?" a voice cut through the rising tension in the room. Haruhi turned to find an amiable man in a chef's hat at the door.

"Yes," Kyouya turned his onyx eyes towards the man. "Please come in, Satoshi-san."

"I'm sorry for the intrusion," the man smiled at them all. He spoke Japanese in a very warm and uplifting voice. "I am Nanba Satoshi—your chef for the evening."

As Satoshi began cooking (with his helpers bringing in fresh seafood and kitchenware and et cetera), Haruhi realized that the room was silent. Kyouya made no effort to make small talk with his guest…although she didn't blame him for not doing so. After all, Jason had been invited into his home without his permission and he wasn't one to socialize with others he did not know well. Even Tamaki seemed a bit uncomfortable with the Shadow King's angry silence.

"So are you from here, Mister…?" the blond gave a weak attempt in a strong accent before he realized that he forgot the man's name.

"Hunt," Jason smiled at Tamaki. "You can just call me Jason."

"Ah," Tamaki brightened up. "Jay-shun."

"No, no," Jason said politely. "Jason."

"Jay-shun," Tamaki repeated. Haruhi glared at the twins who snickered behind their hands.

"Well, that's good enough, I suppose," Jason let out a half-hearted laugh. "And you are…?"

"OH!" Tamaki's eyes widened when he realized that they never introduced themselves to him. He straightened his back attentively as he said, "I am Tamaki Suou."

"It's nice to meet you," Jason shook hands with Tamaki. "Tamaki."

"These two," Tamaki decided to take charge of the introductions, "are Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin. They are twins."

Jason gave them an acknowledging nod. They gave him a bow; Kaoru more willing than Hikaru.

"And this," Tamaki dramatically gestured towards Kyouya, "is Kyouya Ootori. He is the owner of the house."

Haruhi didn't know what to expect as Tamaki introduced the two to each other. She was afraid that Kyouya was going to treat Jason with the same killer smirk and power of the Ootori Corporation. After all, he didn't seem like he liked Jason much—much to her confusion. He really had no motive to dislike Jason but for whatever reason there was, it was evident in his expression that he was ready to take out Jason for even the mildest reason.

"It's nice to meet you," Kyouya said quietly.

"Thank you for inviting me," Jason replied, seemingly just as shocked as she was for Kyouya's hospitable words. Even the atmosphere did not feel murderous as he spoke.

"Eh?" Hikaru let out a loud sigh as he purposely spoke in Japanese. "Even Kyouya-senpai is being nice to him."

"So where are you from, Jay-shun?" Tamaki asked excitedly.

"I was born in New York,"—"Ooh! _New York_, he said!" Tamaki said in Japanese with enthusiasm—"but I was raised here in California for most of my life."

"You are…all American then?" Kaoru spoke.

"I'm half-Japanese, half-American."

"HALF-JAPANESE?" Tamaki exclaimed. "You are a fellow brother then!"

"Half of one," Hikaru muttered. "I bet you he doesn't speak an ounce of Japanese."

"Can you speak?" Kaoru asked as if trying to confirm Hikaru's accusation.

"No, unfortunately not," Jason shook his dirty blond head. Haruhi caught the look that Hikaru gave Kaoru. It said 'I-told-you-so'.

"What do you do for a living?"

Haruhi froze. She recognized that overly-polite tone. It was his 'I-am-curious-because-I-want-to-ruin-them' tone. Gazing around the room, she found Kaoru stiffening.

"I'm a lawyer," Jason answered proudly.

"Oh?" Kyouya's eyebrow rose as the smirk widened at his lips. "At which law firm?"

"_Hunt and Associates_," Jason didn't catch the smirk playing at the Devil's lips.

"You have your own firm," Tamaki looked impressed. "How long have you been in business, Jay-shun?"

As Jason began to inflate his own ego, Haruhi stood and wandered over to the kitchen where Nanba Satoshi was working. She didn't feel like listening to him (after all, he recited the history of his life to her at least twenty times during the nights he invited her out to dinner) and was rather curious of what Satoshi had in store for dinner.

"Are you interested in cooking?" Satoshi asked her as he began to chop up some fish meat. She liked this man—he was pleasant and friendly and this made her feel relaxed and comfortable.

"Not particularly," she replied bluntly. "I think I'm more interested in the eating part."

Satoshi gave a laugh and Haruhi smiled. This atmosphere was much nicer and she enjoyed watching Satoshi's hands whiz across the counter with grace and precision. It was much better than having her heart beat wildly in her chest, nerves just about ready to explode and save Jason if he said anything careless. But he was a grown man, so she shouldn't have to worry about him. He was also a lawyer, so he knows how important words are—so why was she worrying over him? He should be able to take care of himself.

"WHAT? YOU WERE THE BASTARD WHO BROKE HARUHI'S HEART?!"

She spoke too soon.

--

**Author's Note:** oOh…finally, FINALLY, a chapter of meaning, of suspense! And please, please, PLEASE keep in mind that this story contains both Japanese and English dialogue. If there is anyone American in the room, they are speaking English unless otherwise stated. If it's just a room of Japanese people, they're speaking Japanese. I know it's confusing, but I didn't think about the complexity until I began writing. Please forgive me for any confusion I may have caused you!

It took me a while to release this because I wasn't satisfied with the chapter. After reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I decided that I was in a good mood and I posted this chapter!

- "December Love" is sung by Gackt. The version I used is the English version—which means it is not a translation, so there ARE errors in grammar!  
- "ootoro" Giant tuna. (I couldn't find any information on 'ootoro' on the internet for some bizarre reason...I apologize for the lack of in-depth explanation of what 'ootoro' may be! But it used to be Haruhi's favorite food back in the manga and anime.)  
- "fugu" A Japanese dish prepared from the meat of pufferfish. Because pufferfish is lethally poisonous if prepared incorrectly, fugu has become one of the most celebrated and notorious dishes in Japanese cuisine. Only licensed chefs can cook this dish and is very expensive.  
- "Mori-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai"  
- "Ootori-sama" The suffix -sama is used as either "master" or "king" by servants, or those of lower lineage/positions in society  
- "Satoshi-san" The suffix -san is used for those who are not close to you and is unisex.  
- "Nanba Satoshi" Just your regular fugu-licensed sushi chef. He won't show up much.  
- "Jay-shun" I'm trying to show the heavy Japanese accent. It will be Tamaki's nickname for Jason Hunt. Please keep this in mind!  
- "Tamaki Suou" He is speaking English so he's using first name and then last name.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	6. A Little Pain

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG-13 for some rough language.  
**Written for:** fun! After watching the Hana-Kimi Jdorama, and loving it so much, I felt inspired to write (even though this chapter is kind of…angsty.)  
**Dedicated to:** Shirota Yuu this time. Because I love him too! He comes in closely after Gackt on my "favorite men" list. Hahaha  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES)...I can try to take over the world and I still wouldn't own Ouran.

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Six:**

_Realizing...  
I'm here waiting for you  
Even now, there's a different future for us  
I'm here waiting for you _

_I keep on shouting _

_I'm sure a thread on my heart  
Has just been pulled back  
It's like me a long ago  
Waking up  
No need to cry_  
("A Little Pain" by OLIVIA)

Kyouya was silent as Jason's accusation hung in the air. Well, it wasn't so much as an accusation as it was a statement, but he didn't really give it much thought. After all, Jason was right. He was the bastard who broke Haruhi's heart. He couldn't deny it. His pride wouldn't allow him to deny it. After all, what good would contradicting himself do him? Not to mention that he would be hurting Haruhi if he declared that he didn't when he knew well that he _did_.

"Yes," he spoke softly. "I am."

To Jason, it might have sounded as if he was brushing off the responsibility. However, Kaoru and Tamaki gazed at him rather sympathetically and he ignored it. In spite of everything, it had been his fault and he deserved none of their sympathies.

"Don't you know how much you hurt her?!" Jason started to spout off. "I mean, what kind of _idiot_ in their right mind would do such a cruel thing to such a wonderful person? What are you? Are you _stupid_?"

He sat there calmly, taking in all of Jason's insults. That's exactly what he had been waiting for. This is exactly what he deserved. Tamaki was far too kind-hearted to say such things to his face; Hikaru must have been stopped by Kaoru from saying these very words leaving the American's lips; and Haruhi…

She never blamed him. Or, at least, she never came out and said so. She didn't resent him for saying those horrible things to her the day he left. Haruhi didn't want to see him; he could tell when he first found her at her law firm but he knew that it wasn't because she hated him. The shock and fear in her eyes was evident to him and it took all of his willpower to keep himself from asking her to return to him. He would throw away everything: his pride, his money, his status, his lineage, absolutely _everything_, to make things return to the way they were. But that was impossible. He was a realist and he knew that there was absolutely no way she would want him back. He had to prove to her that he was worthy of her love, that he was worthy of having _her_. He wouldn't ask for her to return to him unless she acknowledged him as someone trustworthy. And that meant that she had to be willing to take the first step to tell him so.

"If I had met you earlier, you bastard, I would have smashed your face in—,"

"That's enough, Jason," Haruhi's voice was quiet but it sent shivers up his spine. "Don't say any more."

"But Haruhi!" Jason began to protest. "He was the…"

"Please stop," Haruhi was still seated in front of Satoshi, watching him work. "You are not in a position where your words matter. There is no need for you to say such things to him."

Jason was silent, obviously hurt by her words. For someone who had known her for a few years, he did not understand her needs or her personality. He could not see that she didn't need any defending to maintain her pride and her control over her emotions. And for that, Kyouya could see that Jason was still incompetent when it came to Fujioka Haruhi.

"Thank you for inviting me in," Jason said abruptly (and Kyouya did not miss the hint of sarcasm that dripped venomously from his words) as he bent down to pick up his briefcase. "But I should be going now. I apologize for leaving so suddenly."

"It's nothing," Kyouya replied, keeping his voice mellow and indifferent. "Tamaki will see you out."

"Yes, of course I will!" Tamaki looked as if a god had saved him from sitting silently in an awkward and tense room. "We hope to see you some other time, Jay-shun!"

Tamaki leapt up and walked Jason to the door, all the while thanking him for taking the time to stop by and gushing about how pleasant it had been to learn all sorts of different cultural things that he did not know about America (and since when were they talking about anything related to the American culture?) before waving him cheerfully out the door.

The silence was unbearable. Kyouya usually relished in silence—praying, that whenever Tamaki or the twins were in the room, they would stay quiet, but he realized that when they were silent, the tension in the air began to rise at an accelerating rate. He didn't want to think that the tension was caused between himself and Haruhi and that it was _because_ of the tension that the three usually-noisy men were forced to keep quiet.

The only one in the room who seemed remotely relaxed was Satoshi but he fixed all of his attention on the food that he was preparing that his cheerfulness did not lessen the tension that was still building in the room. Only until he had finished and announced that dinner was served did the tension die down…a little.

"So, Haruhi, about that Jason guy—," Hikaru started less-than-casually.

"Let's not talk about that now," Kaoru said cheerfully as he watched Haruhi's eyes shimmer lightly at the expensive feast placed neatly in the center of the table. "We should enjoy our first dinner together in America."

"Even though we're eating Japanese food as we would have at home?" Hikaru teased his twin brother, causing the latter to blush deeply.

As they ate, Hikaru and Kaoru managed to raise the heavy atmosphere by making small talk and thanks to Tamaki, Haruhi soon began to laugh afterwards. Kyouya ate, remaining silent but observant. He didn't care for the other three in the room, even though they did their best to get him to join in on their conversation, but he was never a great conversationalist to begin with, so they eventually gave up and focused their attention onto Haruhi.

He subtly watched Haruhi as she conversed and ate. She looked thin—thinner than she had been when he left Japan, that is—and paler than he remembered. Before he had broken up with her, he remembered how her cheeks were always tinged with pink and her expression filled with laughter. But now he felt as if she wasn't the whole Haruhi that he knew so well before.

"Kyouya-senpai," Kaoru's voice slapped him out of his thoughts.

"What is it?" Kyouya didn't attempt to guess which twin this was. He still couldn't tell the twins apart.

"Is there enough room for all three of us to sleep here?"

"There is plenty of room," Kyouya said calmly, taking up his glass of water. "There is a guest room in which you two will stay and Tamaki will sleep on the couch."

"Why do I have to sleep on the couch?!" Tamaki wailed. "You're still so cold-hearted, Kyouya!"

Kyouya ignored Tamaki's wailing and fixed his attention to the food on his plate. Throughout the entire evening, he couldn't taste the food. He was sure that it was delicious because Satoshi was one of the more famous chefs known worldwide and Kyouya had been lucky enough to catch him before he traveled off to Italy. Satoshi had even cooked personally for the Ootori family for a month when he was younger, so Kyouya had no doubts about the quality or the taste…but tonight, everything just tasted like sawdust.

He wanted to talk to her. What exactly he wanted to talk about was out of the question—at least for now. But he wanted to create a chance for them to sit down to talk calmly and rationally. He was not going to give her any excuses, nor was he going to explain his reasons for leaving her and asking her to stop waiting for him. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to talk about, but he simply wanted to_ talk_. A small, comfortable chat with Haruhi was the only thing he wanted, the only thing he truly craved.

Kyouya was not the typical man. He preferred solitude and intelligent conversation to bars and mindless, irresponsible acts with women. He held his beliefs and his work above all else. Or, at least, he thought he did until Haruhi's memory disrupted him on the first day of work and he felt a huge pang of guilt hit him in the chest. Never once had he realized that he chose Haruhi over his work when they had been together.

Until that day.

Dinner passed by swiftly and Haruhi seemed to have loosened up a fair amount after the many different, delicious sushi dishes. He could tell that she was tense whenever they were within ten feet of each other and his apartment wasn't large enough for them to keep a good ten feet away from each other at all times. Kyouya felt slightly guilty that he was the reason she's feeling uneasy, but he was selfish enough to push away that guilt so that he could simply watch her. That, after all, was the only thing that he was permitted to do.

She never lost her natural grace, or her natural bluntness that intrigued the Host Club at Ouran. After all, they were all well-bred men living in a world with well-mannered women who spoke gentle, soft words, always cautious not to hurt anyone's feelings. Haruhi, who was a commoner (and was mistaken as a boy at first—though, of course, Ootori Kyouya was an exception; he knew she was a girl right from the start) and extremely indifferent to her surroundings, woke them from their fairytale world of princes and princesses.

"You should sleep over, Haruhi!"

"Why would I sleep over here in Kyouya-senpai's apartment when mine is right next door?" Haruhi's agitated voice broke through his thoughts.

"Aww, but that's no fun," Hikaru pouted as he flopped down on the couch next to Haruhi, throwing him a well-hidden smirk.

Haruhi shook her head in disbelief at Hikaru but said nothing as he and Kaoru began to tease Tamaki who seemed to have gone off into his own world after Hikaru mentioned Haruhi sleeping over. Kyouya did nothing to intervene—instead, in order to keep his mind off of her, he stood up and began to help Satoshi gather up the dishes.

"This is rare, Ootori-sama," Satoshi said in polite conversation. There was no hint of surprise in his voice at all. "The last time you helped me with the dishes, you received a severe scolding."

"Well, there's no one here to scold me now," Kyouya mentioned coolly as he walked into the kitchen with a pile of plates.

"That is true," Satoshi said thoughtfully, giving the younger man a friendly smile. "I am rather pleased you have turned out differently from your father."

Kyouya said nothing in reply at this remark as he placed the dirty dishes into the sink. He remembered the younger Satoshi—one with a lot more vigor and, he was careful not to mention this, ego. He nearly always experimented with food and the food always turned out delicious one way or another. Kyouya always loved watching Satoshi cook when he was at a younger age and constantly snuck into the kitchens to chat with him. He felt a sort of connection with him and could tell him almost everything—but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do so anymore.

"I'll help too,"

He gazed down at the person standing in front of him as he walked out the doors to retrieve more of the plates and nearly felt his heart burst.

"Thank you," he muttered to a smiling Haruhi as he stalked past her back to the dinner table where Satoshi stood with knowing eyes.

"So she's the one."

He simply didn't have the heart to deny Satoshi's statement, "Yes."

"She's a good one," Satoshi said—Kyouya felt a huge wave of guilt wash over him—"but I can understand why you didn't want to bring her into your world."

_Yes,_ he thought bitterly to himself as he picked up the last of the utensils and returned to the kitchen, _because she didn't belong there._

"You really shouldn't bother, Haruhi," Hikaru was on one of the barstools that stood between the living room and the kitchen, gazing over the counter that separated the two rooms. "They have servants for this kind of stuff."

"Kyouya-senpai's helping, isn't he?" Haruhi retorted as she began to wash the dishes.

"That's because he's—," Hikaru stopped once he made eye contact with him.

"I'm what?" Kyouya asked smoothly as he placed the utensils in the sink, his arm accidentally brushing against hers. Quickly, he pulled away, trying to control the strange sensation that he was so familiar with…yet was a stranger to. The further away he stood from her, the better.

"You're different now," Hikaru declared, standing from the barstool. "I don't see any reason why you should be cleaning up. In fact, I think that you're just doing it because you want to get close to Haruhi again, aren't you?"

"Hikaru,"

_Ah, so the one yelling at me was Hikaru,_ Kyouya thought as Kaoru joined them.

"Don't stop me, Kaoru," Hikaru's amber eyes were blazing with anger. "You've stopped me long enough. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."

"Do that after Haruhi leaves," Kaoru said quietly. "She's had enough to deal with."

Kyouya made way for Satoshi who offered to help Haruhi dry the dishes as she washed them. It was as if she never heard their conversation as she cheerily handed him the clean plates. At the corner of his eye, he saw that Hikaru left them in a huff for the guest bedroom with Kaoru following closely, dragging a bewildered Tamaki with him.

Unknowingly, he found himself watching her as he leaned against the counter, hands idle. She moved with grace—well, more grace than she did back in high school anyway—and so _naturally _that it made him feel as if his presence did not grind her nerves. As if he was too far away to reach her…

"I shall take my leave now, Ootori-sama," Satoshi bowed politely. Quickly, Kyouya allowed his body to bow in reply. "Should you need my culinary skills again, please do not hesitate to call."

"Thank you,"

"Thank you, Satoshi-san!" Haruhi called out after him as she finished drying her hands. "It really was delicious."

"I'm glad," Satoshi gave a small chuckle. "It has been a pleasant night."

Haruhi walked him to the door and waved good-bye as he disappeared down the hall. He watched her, as he's been doing the past few hours, as she closed the door and sighed contentedly.

Once she turned and their eyes met, Kyouya was hit by a wave of nostalgia. He felt something being lodged in his throat and he couldn't speak. Rather, he didn't know what to say. The words he wanted to say were coming so quickly, in such abundance, that he felt speechless for the first time in his life. He wanted to talk to her and now he, being the opportunist, was given the opportunity and he knew that he _must_ take it now or he will never receive this chance again…

…but the words escaped him. He was at a loss. Of all the things he wanted to say, he couldn't say the words that mattered. Because he knew that she would never accept them the way they were. They had to patch things up between them—they had to talk about it, but that was one topic that he couldn't tread upon so carelessly. They were in a delicate situation and one wrong word could shatter what was left of their world…if their world still remained standing. It would be in ruins, but he prayed, oh, he prayed, that despite all odds, it was still standing.

"Kyouya-senpai…you play the piano?"

He started as he realized that Haruhi had broken eye contact and now looked past him at the Yamaha black grand piano sitting the corner of the room. She was walking towards it, as if in a curious trance, and ran her fingers across the top of the polished instrument.

"I started up in England," he said softly, joining her at the piano. "Tamaki offered to teach me, but I declined."

"You would," Haruhi gave a small laugh as she seated herself on the equally polished black bench. She lifted the lid that protected the keys and pressed down on a random key. "You always were too proud for your own good, Kyouya-senpai."

"Yes," he allowed himself to let out a small, hollow laugh. "I suppose I am."

"Can you play?" Haruhi gazed up at him through large, wondrous eyes. "Right now?"

"What do you want me to play?" he asked as he seated himself next to her—Haruhi moving slightly to give him more room. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at it…"

"Any piece," Haruhi leaned back on her hands, waiting patiently for him to pick a song. "Something I wouldn't be able to recognize."

"Well, that's a bit difficult," Kyouya turned to gaze at her. "You listen to a large variety of classical music."

She let out a laugh and stared up thoughtfully at the ceiling, "Well, I'm sure there are some songs I've never heard before."

"I highly doubt that," Kyouya said seriously.

He thought for a moment and only managed to press down on three keys before he heard a voice say, "Wow, you play the piano now too, Kyouya-senpai?"

He turned and found one of the twins (Kaoru, he's guessing at this point since he sensed no feeling of hostility in the twin's presence) smiling at them from the guestroom door. He watched as Tamaki stumbled out behind Kaoru before Kaoru shut the door quietly.

"He's sulking," Kaoru said cheerfully in answer to his (and Haruhi's) questioning gaze. "Don't worry—he'll get over it by dawn."

"Oh!" Tamaki's violet eyes lit up in excitement as he raced over to them. "You brought your piano along with you, Kyouya! Let me play, let me play!"

Kyouya consented silently and resigned the piano to the ecstatic blond's graceful fingers. He seated himself on the leather couch and listened as Tamaki began to play. Haruhi was still seated on the piano bench and was watching Tamaki play fluidly. He closed his eyes as he allowed the music to carry him to his memories—the memories he held dear to his heart.

It had been a while since he thought through their situation in its entirety. He never wanted to think about the memories that he and Haruhi had created together because the pain of knowing that he ended everything stabbed him mercilessly in the heart. Of course, he deserved it—every wound inflicted upon himself was deserved…but Haruhi did not deserve the pain that he had inflicted upon her. Despite his reasons behind it, he thought of them only as excuses. They were excuses that pushed away all feelings of guilt because they were understandable reasons, but that took him nowhere. He was stuck in this situation, thanks to his rare moment of spontaneous (and definitely ridiculous) lying, despite his agonizing over his decision. It was a now-or-never instinct that made him sound harsher than he would have liked, but if he had been gentle, he knew that she would never let him go…

_Then why did you search for her?_ That annoying, pesky consciousness sang with glee at its owner's expense. _She forgot you just like you wanted…why are you trying to reopen her wounds?_

He gripped the bridge of his nose, trying in vain to be rid of that headache that was coming up.

Ootori Kyouya was a selfish man, an egotistical one at that. He was never a romantic man (nor did he want to turn into one...just look at Tamaki!) so he always had difficulty expressing his feelings and it was no wonder that Haruhi believed his every word as they left his lips that day. He never said the words that mattered to every woman—with no doubt, even to Haruhi—and only gave her insecurity layered upon insecurity coated with dispassion, like a bittersweet lollipop.

"I should be going," Haruhi's voice halted his very-emo thoughts and he gazed up to find Haruhi smiling at Kaoru and Tamaki. "Thank you for a very wonderful evening."

"Leaving so soon?" he found himself asking her.

"Yes," that brilliant smile faded a bit as she turned towards him. "I have to be at work early tomorrow."

"I see," he murmured as he stood to walk her to the door.

"Good night, Haruhi!"

"Good night, my darling, cute daughter!"

Haruhi turned to wave at them before slipping into her low pumps. He opened the door for her and she turned to bow a wordless thanks.

"Good night, Haruhi," he murmured just as she walked away.

"Good night, Kyouya-senpai,"

He noticed that she never turned to look at him as she walked away.

--

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay of this chapter. I was totally stuck in the middle of this chapter and it took me a while to get back into writing. Guess summer can do that to me…it causes my muse to go into periodic hibernation. And without my muse, I am nothing. -corner-

Anyway, not much development in this chapter (is my story going a bit too slow for you, my readers? If it is, please tell me and I'll try to quicken the pace!), this is all just Kyouya's inner mind and how it's working right now. His point-of-view won't show up too much since it might just give too much away! And Mori and Honey will show up soon, I promise!

- "Kyouya-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai"  
- "Ootori-sama" The suffix -sama is used as either "master" or "king" by servants, or those of lower lineage/positions in society  
- "Satoshi-san" The suffix -san is used for those who are not close to you and is unisex.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	7. Lost Butterfly

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** Katkins Diet…because she's the only one of my real-life friends following this crappy fanfic. LOL. Thanks, Katkins!  
**Dedicated to:** Yamamoto Yusuke. (The person who plays 'Kayashima' for those who watch the jdrama 'Hana-Kimi'!) He's so cuuuuuuute!  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...if I did, I'd be so happy I'd cry. But I don't, so I'm still going to cry. LOL.

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Seven:**

_If you could fly with those wings  
You could probably reach the sun  
They would melt beautifully while you smiled_

_Anyway, some day everyone will part  
And yet, nevertheless, I met you  
Even if we're separated,  
I can wish for your happiness_

_If it won't reach you,  
I'll make this song for you__…_  
("Lost Butterfly" by RURUTIA)

Haruhi awoke to a beautiful morning. She stretched, letting out a final yawn and sat up, taking a peek at the alarm clock next to her bed. The black box read 6:59 AM in blaring red, bold numbers before the numbers changed and the morning radio station began to speak through its fairly old speakers with obvious fake enthusiasm.

"And it's a lovely morning here in Long Beach with comfortable temperatures ranging from the high seventies—"

She listened to the weather and traffic conditions as she performed her daily rituals. Clipping her hair to one side of her face, she noticed the darkish rings underneath her eyes and let out a sigh.

The entire night she laid awake, there were millions of thoughts running through her head like a bad T.V. rerun. But the most distinct thought was that Ootori Kyouya was in California, was within her reach—something that he had not been for the past three years. She couldn't be so sure whether she was frightened (of what anyway?) or whether she was upset about it, but either way, she didn't get her usual eight hours of sleep that night and the lack of proper sleep showed immediate results.

Splashing ice cold water on her face, she felt her skin tingle rather pleasantly.

She's never felt this way before. This strange aching to say something, to do something, to do _anything_ that may ensure herself that everything ended that day three years ago. She did not want to feel that painful feeling of heartbreak anymore. She was an adult—a 26-year-old woman—who was so very close to accomplishing her dream and she was not ready for a man of the past to break her again.

She paused as she gazed into the mirror, taking in her appearance. She felt…old. Tired. She already had so much on her plate—she didn't want a man to unhinge her poor heart. She didn't know just how much more damage she can take.

His appearance shocked her; ever since that day, she vowed that no man will move her heart until she was ready for it. Then again, she never thought that Ootori Kyouya would return into her life to bring back the feelings she thought she buried among her heart's remains. Apparently, however, she did not bury them well enough because she was beginning to suspect that this overwhelming sense of _something_ was related to the crushed feelings she felt from three years ago.

Snapping out of her irritating thoughts, she quickly dressed and grabbed an apple before making her way down to her car. She wanted to beat traffic today and get into her office early to start her workload (and to keep her wandering mind at bay). After all, there were people who needed her help and her problems can be dealt with later.

"…yes, of course. I won't let you down, sir. Good-bye."

Haruhi entered the office just as Jeanne finished up a phone call.

"Good morning, Jeanne,"

"Oh!" Jeanne jumped slightly in her seat. "Good morning, Ms. Fujioka. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Not as well as I usually do," Haruhi admitted truthfully as she walked in the direction of her office, "but enough to keep me going for a couple of hours."

"I'll get you a cup of coffee then," Jeanne stood as she smiled her usual brilliantly white smile. "That should be able to keep you awake."

"Thank you, Jeanne," Haruhi offered the woman a smile of her own. "But I can get the coffee myself."

"No, I insist," Jeanne argued, blocking Haruhi's way to the coffee machine. "You go and get settled in—I'll be in with the coffee as soon as it's finished."

"All right then," Haruhi turned away from the woman and the coffeemaker that she was protecting with a hint of reluctance. But, knowing her beloved secretary's personality, it was probably better to heed her words—at least early in the morning.

Thanks to Jeanne's coffee, Haruhi managed to work the entire day without feeling the least bit sleepy. Ayano had also gathered her frenzied nerves together and they discussed her divorce trial through its entirety.

Ayano was on her way out, relief shown on her young face, when Jeanne stopped her for a moment.

"Is something wrong, Jeanne?" Haruhi asked, seeing the unusual look that replaced her secretary's friendly, but extremely beautiful, face.

"We have received a message that Ms. Ayano's husband has gotten a lawyer to defend him in court."

"Who is it?" Haruhi ushered Ayano back into the office (the poor woman's face looking confused and frightened at the foreign words being exchanged) and gestured for Jeanne to enter and shut the door behind her. She turned to Ayano quickly and spoke Japanese in a low comforting voice, "Please sit down, Ayano-san…there may be some complications."

"He's a very well-known lawyer, Ms. Fujioka," Jeanne started as she wrung her hands uncharacteristically. "One of the best in the field."

"Please do not drag out your answer, Jeanne," Haruhi seated herself stiffly, having a slight suspicion but decided not to voice her opinion. "We do not have time for suspense."

"Jason Hunt at _Hunt and Associates_."

"I see," Haruhi pursed her lips as she rested her chin gracefully on her clasped hands. "Thank you, Jeanne."

"What's happening?" Ayano asked once Jeanne left the room. "Did something go wrong?"

"Ayano-san," the brunette's shoulders loosened as she gazed upon her client's face soberly. "Your husband has gotten a lawyer—one of the best—and you must be properly aware of that."

"You mean…I might lose everything?"

"It's a possibility," Haruhi busied her hands with various documents. "But you shouldn't worry about that now. Let me worry about it for you. You've done nothing wrong."

Haruhi worked with Ayano for an extra two hours, confirming all of her information and even discussing the possible retaliations against their claim, rescheduling those appointments following Ayano's. Ayano was more than willing to contribute to their discussion and once she left the office, she had a healthy glow of excitement in her cheeks. She thanked her with a genuine smile on her face—one that brightened up those weathered features that did not fit her young age.

"Thank you so much, Fujioka-san," Ayano bowed deeply.

"Thank me after the trial," Haruhi replied as she returned the bow with her own. "I'll see you here again the day after tomorrow."

Haruhi walked Ayano out and they said their good-byes one more time before Haruhi walked back into her office.

"You've had a busy day, Ms. Fujioka," Jeanne patted her on the shoulder. "You should go home and get some rest. You have a lot of appointments to keep tomorrow."

"Yes," Haruhi offered the woman a smile of thanks. "Thank you, Jeanne. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You would overwork yourself to death," Jeanne stated matter-of-factly. "Oh, I almost forgot—I didn't want to bother you and Ms. Ayano but you received a phone call from a Mr. Kyouya Ootori an hour ago."

"Did he leave a message of some sort?" Haruhi busied herself with packing up her briefcase, trying not to think much of his phone call.

"He said that there was something very important that he needed to discuss with you," Jeanne's smile seemed strangely stiff. "He would prefer if you called upon him at his office."

"Of course; thank you, Jeanne," Haruhi threw on her blazer and picked up her packed briefcase, wondering briefly where the hell his "office" was. "Did he inform you of an address or a number that I could call?"

"Yes," Jeanne shuffled through a few papers before handing her a slightly crumpled sticky-note. Haruhi took it and smoothed it out, noting the paper's poor condition but mentioned nothing. "He said that his office hours are from eight to seven but it is likely that he will be staying later than that."

"I see," Haruhi stuck the paper into her pocket. "Thanks again, Jeanne. I'll see you tomorrow. Can you please lock up for me tonight?"

"Yes, good bye, Ms. Fujioka,"

Haruhi waved in response and headed down to her car. As she placed her briefcase in the passenger seat and buckled up, her mind wandered towards Jeanne's strange behavior towards the mentioning of Kyouya. Could he have threatened her? Was Jeanne hired by Kyouya? That couldn't be! Jeanne's attitude towards Kyouya was more of a hostile nature…

As she drove through the streets of Long Beach, she did not realize that the streets were soon darkened by clouds, nor did she notice that people were starting to scurry off the streets, holding their coats over their heads. Her mind was whirling with possibilities.

It bothered her more than she wanted it to. She trusted Jeanne to an extent but she knew that Kyouya, though irritatingly stubborn and prideful, would never sink so low as to resort to pure trickery for his amusement. He was not that sort of a man, but who was to say that she was right? They were apart for such a long time that he could have changed for the worse. Jeanne was so helpful and willing to give up extra time to help her—how could she doubt the woman's kindness? But it was still suspicious, wasn't it?

She arrived at a very old building. It was built of beautiful red bricks that seemed to have faded a little due to time and an abundance of ivy had decorated its worn stones. She read the nameplate on the door: _O.F. Clinic_. Before she could knock on the door, she felt her cell phone vibrate strongly in her bag.

"This is Haruhi Fujioka speaking," she answered in English automatically, not pausing to check the ID.

"Hey Haruhi," Kaoru's voice sounded broken. "Where are you now?"

"Last minute meeting with someone," she said vaguely, not wanting to mention that she was meeting Kyouya. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Kaoru said after a moment's silence, "just curious. When are you coming back?"

"It depends on how long this meeting will take," Haruhi winced as she imagined the amount of time she had to spend in Kyouya's territory. "Hopefully not too long,"

"Oh, all right then," Kaoru sounded relieved. "Well, we'll see you when you get back."

"Is something wrong?" Haruhi asked as she raised a hand to knock on the intimidating door.

"No, no," Kaoru laughed heartily. "We were just wondering; that's all."

She nearly jumped at the loud banging sound her knuckles made against the wooden door. It sounded forbidden and positively _evil_.

"Well, I'll leave you to your meeting then. We'll see you later."

"Bye," she wasn't even sure if she said this because once the door opened, she was gazing up at Kyouya.

"You came," he murmured as he stepped aside to make way for her to step into the building. "I wasn't expecting you so soon. Your secretary said that it might be a couple of days before you replied to my message."

Haruhi allowed her shoulders to lift and then fall in disinterest as she walked by him, "Is there something you needed from me?"

He closed the door and was leading her down a series of hallways and doors. She was sharply aware of her surroundings—if she had to run for it, she won't have any problems finding her way out. Fujioka Haruhi knew exactly what to expect from Ootori Kyouya and was going to protect herself from anything and everything.

"My office is here," he gestured towards a room but he walked straight past it, "but we won't be in there."

"Where are you taking me?" she felt compelled to ask, still memorizing the many hallways and staircases they took.

"You'll see," he turned slightly and offered her that sly smirk she learned to despise. Seeing the suspicious look on her face, he quickly added, "I'm not going to kill you, you know."

_You already have,_ Haruhi bit her tongue to prevent the bitter thought from leaving her lips.

As much as she didn't want to admit it (after all, she did not like being portrayed as the stereotypical, bitter woman), she could no longer see Kyouya as the loving man that he had been before. Surely, he was not the reason she had been reasonably miserable for a good part of their time apart, but she could not help but hate him for allowing her to bring down her guard against pain, dependence, and weakness. She couldn't stand him and she could have been relatively polite if she did not hate herself whenever she was near him. Being near him only reminded her of just how helpless she was without him.

Independence? That value had gone down the drain.

So lost in her heated self-debate, she did not realize that Kyouya had stopped in front of a door and almost ran right into his slender body.

"Excuse me," she said as a reflex.

He said nothing in reply as he opened the door and stepped to the side to allow her entrance.

At first she wasn't quite sure what she was going to find. What could Kyouya possibly want her to see? Once she walked into the room, she understood everything perfectly. The figure lying in the bed, their whimpering and sobs broke her heart as she listened quietly.

"I saved her just in time," Kyouya murmured from behind her, "but he still managed to get to her first."

"Ayano-san…" Haruhi murmured as she reached out a hand to touch the woman's mussed black hair.

"You shouldn't touch her," he said quietly as he placed a hand on hers to stop it from coming in contact with the quivering head. "She'll go into a panic attack."

After a moment's silence, he said, "Let's talk outside. You look like you need some fresh air."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Haruhi felt a foreign emotion well up in her throat as Kyouya led her back outside, carefully closing the door behind them.

The rainy wind blew past her and she knew a storm was coming, but she felt pure anger coursing through her veins so she didn't take any notice. She felt that she could have done something to save Ayano-san from that bastard. Didn't Kyouya trust her enough? Why didn't he inform her of the possibilities? Why didn't she think things through properly?!

"You would have done something unnecessary," Kyouya said in his stoic voice. "Informing you would have distracted you from your case."

"Protecting my clients is a part of my responsibility as their lawyer!" Haruhi argued back, feeling the wind rip through her hair, the short, loose strands waving angrily in her face. She barely noticed, however, as she stared up defiantly at him.

"Then you should have thought of the possibilities without my assistance," Kyouya replied as he crossed his arms across his chest lazily.

He struck at the tender part of her heart, the part that felt the liability of Ayano's pain. How could she have been so careless?

_So naïve,_ the wind whispered hauntingly into her ear.

"Yes," she mumbled in response to the wind. She gazed back up at Kyouya's stone features with fire in her eyes. "How did you know?"

"That is none of your concern," he said simply. He didn't even pretend to fake innocence.

"Like hell it's not!" she snapped at him. "My client has just been abused by the very man you associated yourself with and you tell me that it is none of my _concern_?! I'm going to ask you again, Ootori Kyouya;_how did you know_?"

"I'm not going to tell you," Kyouya replied flatly. "Your attention needs to be elsewhere. Telling you would only hinder your—"

"Don't give me that, Kyouya," Haruhi felt all of her pent-up anger, sadness, regret, and loneliness rush out of her mouth. "I am not going to be manipulated by you! I'm asking you a simple question; so do us both a favor and **answer me**!"

"I will not repeat myself, Haru,"

The familiarity of the nickname hit her almost as hard as the rain did when it came pelting down on them. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to cry in his arms. She wanted so much for him to hold her as he did before, but she didn't want to give him that satisfaction. She didn't want him to know just how much she suffered after he left her. She was not that kind of a woman!

"Don't call me 'Haru'," Haruhi could feel those choking feelings she felt so long ago lodge themselves in her chest, threatening to spill from her very body. "You have no _right_ to call me anything so familiar."

"Of course," she could have sworn he sounded almost sad. "I apologize, Fujioka-san."

As the words left his lips, she _knew_. Through the veil of rain, through her dripping hair, she knew that she was still in love with him. Those crushed feelings, those painful nights, those horrible words he said to her that day…and she found that she didn't care. She wanted to see if he was still the man that she had been in love with so long ago.

She turned away from him. Damn it; she was such a weak person.

"Forget it," she murmured, feeling tired. "You wouldn't tell me even if I bribed you."

Haruhi was exhausted—she didn't have the energy to deal with him and his endless secrecy. The only thing she wanted was to get out of the rain and into a warm bath. She felt powerless against everything. Poor Ayano was suffering abuse and she could do nothing.

"Please take care of her," Haruhi pulled out her car keys. "I'll be by tomorrow morning to check up on her."

And with that, Haruhi dragged herself to her car, tears streaming down her face disguised by the rain, turned on the engine, and drove home.

--

**Author's Note:** Before anyone kills me for the long wait of this chapter, I HAVE AN REASON IN MY DEFENSE[silence I…was busy with college? Ahahha…I do apologize for the delay of this chapter. I just didn't feel inspired enough for the past few months (has it really been that long?) and I thank all of the people who encouraged me and supported me! I have the next few chapters planned out so hopefully my muse doesn't go kaput on me. Thank you to all of the readers out there who are still waiting for me to finish this story!

- "Ayano-san" The suffix -san is used for those who are not close to you and is unisex.  
- "Haru" was what Kyouya called her when they were together.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	8. Dearest

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** my beautiful supporters and reviewers!  
**Dedicated to:** Ikuta Toma! Kyaaa He's so cute! (I love Hana Kimi so much—so many of my favorite actors there! -)  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there (especially in tenses!) And prepare for a very long read ahead. Lol.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...because I don't have the talent to come up with something original on my own…so I'm just borrowing it for a while xP

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Eight:**

_Back then, when we met,  
it was all awkward.  
We went the long way, didn't we?  
We got hurt, didn't we?_

_Until the day I reach eternal sleep,  
that smiling face will  
have to stay with me without fail._

_Back then, when we met,  
it was all awkward.  
We went the long way, didn't we?  
We got there in the end...__  
_("Dearest" by Hamasaki Ayumi)

"Haruhi!"

She gazed up from behind her damp bangs as Kaoru, Hikaru, and Tamaki rushed out of Kyouya's apartment and crowded around her with worried looks etched on their faces. It was very transparent that they had been on a lookout for her after Kaoru made the call.

"What happened?"

"Are you all right?"

"Let's get you warmed up."

She pulled away from their arms when she realized that they were going to pull her into Kyouya's territory. She said quietly, "I don't want to go in there."

She expected silence—that familiar silence those three lapsed into whenever Kyouya was mentioned—but instead, Kaoru placed an arm around her shoulder as Hikaru and Tamaki gave him a nod.

"Why don't we go to your apartment then and you can dry off there?"

"You won't need to come with me." Haruhi protested as Kaoru steered her firmly to her door. "I can dry off very well by myself."

"It's only me," Kaoru smiled at her gently as she hesitantly pulled out her keys, "that way we'll get a chance to talk and catch up."

She turned to find Hikaru lingering just outside of Kyouya's door with Tamaki, both of them with unreadable expressions on their faces.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt," she let out a sigh as she unlocked her door.

"It's small," Kaoru commented as he entered her apartment for the first time. "Why is your apartment and Kyouya-senpai's so different when you guys are right next door to each other?"

"The apartment complex had been remodeled before," Haruhi explained as she set her keys down on the counter where she usually kept them and headed for the bathroom. "They remodeled and added Kyouya-senpai's half of the apartments."

"They should have just rebuilt the whole thing," Kaoru said as he settled on the couch comfortable. "It would have been a lot more professional."

"True," Haruhi said from the bathroom where she proceeded to change into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. "But the rent is cheaper on my side of the complex compared to his side."

"I suppose that makes sense," she heard Kaoru's voice faintly from the living room as she tugged the T-shirt over her head. "But I still think they should have rebuilt it."

Haruhi gave a laugh. Their way of thinking was so different from hers that sometimes she wasn't even sure why they were all friends in the first place. But she enjoyed being with them because she learned a great deal. Though how useful the information she learned was a mystery to her, she still enjoyed their presence.

"I'm sorry," she said as she walked out, holding a towel to her head. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, I'm fine," Kaoru waved a hand. "Perhaps you have commoner coffee instead?"

"Why are you still drinking that?" Haruhi questioned him as she headed for the kitchen. She proceeded into taking out the simple ingredients for the coffee and started to boil water. "You have much higher quality coffee you can drink."

"It's interesting," Kaoru said defensively. "Not as good as our coffee, but it doesn't hurt to indulge ourselves in a bit of commoner culture."

"Whatever you say," Haruhi knew that she wasn't ever going to understand the workings of rich minds, so she didn't bother. They were silent for a moment while the water boiled and once it did, she added a few scoops of coffee powder to the water and placed it on a small tray. "Well, what did you want to catch up about?"

She set the coffee down in front of Kaoru and seated herself directly across from him. She noted that he hesitated as he reached for the coffee.

"Nothing much, really," Kaoru finally said. "We just haven't gotten time to talk one-on-one, that's all."

"Yes," Haruhi mentioned as she leaned back into the armchair. "There are a few matters I would like to ask you though."

Kaoru's hand paused in the air. After a moment, he placed the cup back down on the table without taking a sip and asked quietly, "What would you like to know?"

"Why are you here?" Haruhi asked him without waiting another moment. "And why are you all staying at Kyouya-senpai's apartment?"

Kaoru sighed, pressing his hands together thoughtfully, "Well, I suppose I'll have to tell you from the very beginning."

"I have no objections," Haruhi declared.

He was silent for another moment before he started, "Before Kyouya-senpai left for England, his relationship with his father was already at its breaking point. It wasn't just Kyouya-senpai, even if he suffered worse from that. The entire family was feuding over ridiculous matters that involved even Tamaki-senpai's family and my own. It wasn't anyone's fault, really…Ootori-san was ill and was desperate for an official heir to take over the company in case of any emergencies. The candidates not only included his sons, but even extended to his nephews. He contacted Kyouya-senpai first, stating that he needed him to prove to him that he was the right choice—of course, all of the other potential candidates received the same call and they were all eager to prove their worth.

"It was hard for Kyouya-senpai to decide whether the company was really what he wanted in life. Did he really care if the company went out to his brothers? Or, even worse, to those that were not immediate family?

"He came to us one night, I think after a date with you, Haruhi, looking completely lost and it was the first time he had all of his walls down. He wanted to stay with you and throw everything away if it was possible, but all of the work he put forth in taking over the company weighed heavily against his pride. He wanted to take over the company. I think there was a reason deeper behind his desire to take over, but he never told us.

"He didn't know what to do. Whether he should leave you—which sent him in a rage against himself—or whether he should just give up the dream he worked so hard for. It was all simple; really…we couldn't understand his dilemma. It should have been an easy decision to compromise. He could have gone to England for a couple of months to work for the position and he still would have had you. We told him that you would have waited for him, no matter how long you had to wait.

"Kyouya-senpai said that it wasn't possible. There was no way that he was going to just leave you hanging, waiting for months, or even possibly _years_, for something that may not even be his. He said that it was either you or the company. It couldn't be both. He said that he already didn't deserve you; what gave him any right to keep you leashed and to keep you waiting? He didn't want to put you through that, no matter how headstrong you were. It would have been painful for you.

"When he left, he was still undecided. He never came back for help, so I don't know when it was that he made his decision. But by the time we found out, it was already too late. He had already dropped the bomb and left you alone at the airport that day. He ignored all of our calls as if he was punishing himself for everything. Isolating himself, cutting off everything he enjoyed in life—I daresay he regretted leaving you in pieces. But he returned to Japan the day of the dinner party where his father was planning on naming the official heir of the Ootori Corporation. Kyouya-senpai was to inherit the company."

"Then why is he here?" Haruhi asked as Kaoru paused for a moment to drink the cool coffee. "What business does he have here?"

"He declined the position." Kaoru said matter-of-factly. "And he was disowned by his father."

Disowned—the word rung with unfamiliarity; he was disowned.

"I guess he realized that his life was worthless if he continued this way. Hurting the people he most cared about just to appease his father and hurting himself? It wasn't worth it."

"That doesn't explain why he's here," Haruhi argued. "Or why you're all here in his apartment."

Kaoru sighed, "We found him that apartment. We're here to monitor him."

"Monitor him?" A thought rang in her head.

This was so unlike Kyouya. He didn't need any monitoring—_he_ did the monitoring! He was in charge of his life; he already knew where he was going…

"After he returned to Japan and found out that you were gone, he blamed himself and his existence. We decided that it was time for a change." Seeing the appalled look on her face, Kaoru quickly said, "Mind you, we wanted to send him off somewhere else, but once he got over that stage of his life, he started to search for you. Frantically. And then when he found you, using the little resources he had—after all, being disowned by the Ootori family meant that he was a mere nobody even despite the businesses he was still in charge of—we couldn't persuade him from seeing you."

"Weren't you the one who asked him why he rented the apartment?"

"Yes," Kaoru gave a small laugh. He seemed amused at her question and at the fact that she remembered such a small detail. "It was to throw you off. Kyouya-senpai would never admit to being so weak as to ask for our help."

"But his brother…?" Haruhi's mind was racing a million miles per second. She remembered the desperate look in Kyouya's eyes as he nearly begged her to help him help his brother. Was that all a lie?

"His brother was the one who did most to help him out of the ditch he was in," Kaoru explained, looking weary. "His second brother really is in a pinch and Kyouya-senpai's first instinct was to ask you for help because you were the only one he trusted with his brother's case."

There it was—that emotional, passionate side of Kyouya that made the callous, robotic side of him so _human_. On the outside, he was stone, but that once new and polished marble stone is beginning to age and crack, revealing someone…different. She knew now that the Kyouya that reflected in her eyes wasn't the one that she fell in love with. The past Kyouya was so cold on the exterior and only slightly warm on the inside; does that mean the current Kyouya is a stranger?

Haruhi stopped her thoughts here. He was different. She was different. They have separated and grown apart in more ways than one…so why did she feel this longing to still be with him? He wasn't the person she fell in love with, so why, why, _why_ did she feel the same she did so long ago?

"Haruhi?"

"I'm sorry," Haruhi said in a soft whisper. "I was lost in thought."

Kaoru only smiled at her, patted her hand from across the low table, and repeated himself, "Kyouya-senpai said that there were only two reasons he was here."

"Two?"

"He said that the first one was to help his brother," Kaoru shook his head as he pulled away from her. "And that the second was to apologize. To you."

She was silent for a moment, "Apologize?"

"He's not asking for forgiveness," Kaoru said hurriedly as if he somehow wounded or offended her. "He wanted to apologize for all of the pain he has caused you and to say good-bye."

"'Good-bye'?!"

"He won't bother you ever again—"

"Please don't say anymore," Haruhi said, rubbing her temples lightly.

They were quiet; the only noises that could be heard were the last of the summer cicadas outside in a different world, a different time, a different dimension.

"He's so selfish," she murmured to herself

"Pardon?" Kaoru looked confused at her comment.

"That man," her brown eyes flashed up at Kaoru, "is so selfish."

Kaoru looked shocked for a moment before bursting out in hearty laughter. She waited as his laughter died down and he smiled at her, "Yes, I suppose he is."

Haruhi stood and placed a hand on his cup, "I'll refresh that. It doesn't taste good when it's cold."

He stopped her and said soberly, "Do you still love him, Haruhi?"

She was silent for a moment before a loud knock came at the door. She hurried towards it and found Tamaki and Hikaru breathless.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her attention completely on them.

"Mori-senpai and Hani-senpai," Hikaru wheezed through his lungs, "they're landing soon. They managed to get everything done and hurried here right away."

"Hold on," Haruhi stopped them as they tried to pull her out the door. "I can't fit all of you in my car!"

"I suppose one or two of us can stay behind," Kaoru suggested from behind her. "Tono, why don't you go along with Haruhi? Hikaru and I will stay behind and clean up."

Clean up? Haruhi highly doubted that.

"Sounds good," Hikaru agreed. "Go with her, tono."

"Anything for my beloved daughter!" Tamaki breezed past Hikaru and hugged her tightly. "We must leave soon so that we do not keep our senpais waiting!"

She only managed to grab her wallet and her keys before Tamaki danced her out of her apartment. She barely had enough time to even lock her door before Tamaki pulled her out of the building and down to her car.

"All right, all right," Haruhi laughed as she unlocked the doors. "We should hurry."

They quickly drove onto the freeway and Haruhi reached over to turn on the radio before Tamaki placed his hand on hers. She gazed at him, slightly surprised, as he squeezed it tightly, his eyes focused on the blurry scenery outside. After a moment of silence, Haruhi was unsure whether she should pull away to prevent any misunderstandings when Tamaki said quietly, "He loves you, you know."

She didn't have to ask who he was talking about; she knew quite well that he was talking about Kyouya.

"I'm sure he does," she said in a detached sort of voice as she pulled her hand away to turn on the radio.

"Haruhi," Tamaki turned it off and grabbed her hand again. "I'm serious."

Haruhi wasn't quite sure what he wanted to hear. In fact, she wasn't quite sure of anything. She knew she still had lingering feelings but what exactly were those feelings? At first, she was sure it was love, but since they were two completely different people, would it still be love? Or is she simply holding onto a shred of hope?

"I know Kaoru told you everything," Tamaki continued. "Kyouya told us himself that he didn't deserve you, over and over again. He said he wanted to let you go and stop putting you through agony. He wanted to say good-bye to you, but not because he doesn't love you!"

"I know," she said quietly, letting out a sigh. "Kyouya-senpai isn't someone like that…"

"Stop calling him '–senpai'," Tamaki demanded. "He's more than that."

Haruhi didn't respond and he soon gave up, loosening her fingers and allowing her to turn on the radio. It wasn't that she was trying to be difficult; she just didn't know what to say anymore. All of these thoughts in her head and all of the words that had been spoken before meant nothing if it had been someone else…the only person she truly wanted to talk to right now was Kyouya.

It was there, that inkling of knowledge. Something inside of her head told her that she knew exactly what was going on with herself, with Kyouya, with them as a whole. But something in her just couldn't accept it the way things are. They needed to talk everything through before she could remove that unwilling block from her mind.

Tamaki began talking at this point and she was secretly grateful of him for doing so. This distracted her mind from so many unpleasant memories and thoughts that ran a marathon of laps in her head. She just needed a little break, for a moment or two or three. Just forget everything now. She'll think about it later.

They began chatting about the Suou Empire and its business as they waited at the luggage claim for their seniors. They were in a rather heated debate about the airport (Haruhi was sure this man was destined to be ignorant about the commoner "world" and to over-exaggerate everything) when a cute voice called out to them.

"Thanks for picking us up, Haru-chan! Tama-chan!"

"Hani-senpai!" Tamaki waved enthusiastically as they made their way over to them. "Mori-senpai! How was your flight?"

Haruhi smiled at them as Hani began to tell Tamaki all about their flight (they, of course, flew on their private jet) and was pleasantly surprised to find Mori-senpai's hand on her shoulder.

"How are you, Haruhi?"

Her eyes widened slightly as they watered (without any knowledge why) and she replied with a wavering voice, "I'm fine, thank you."

Mori only gave her one of his knowing smiles and patted her on the head in comfort. She felt as if Mori knew exactly what she was going through and understood that she needed time to think things through (or in her case, to just mull it over and come to a conclusion later). He was always like a protective big brother who didn't suffocate her with expectations or excessive thoughts. Being with him was like sitting outside on a nice day, free of life's stress, just for a moment.

"Well, where are we going?" Haruhi asked them as they headed out to her car. "Are you staying at Kyouya-senpai's place too?"

"No," Mori answered in that usual quiet tone of his as Hani skipped alongside of Tamaki. "We are staying at the hotel."

"We're moving too," Tamaki smiled at her. "I think Kyouya will be fine by himself now."

Haruhi didn't say anything in reply and instead ushered them quickly to the car where she drove them to their hotel, where Hikaru and Kaoru were waiting by a black Mercedes.

"Hey!" they waved to them as they made their way over. "It's been a while, Hani-senpai. Mori-senpai!"

She gazed over at the black Mercedes curiously, noting that she's never seen it before but it was familiar. She has seen plenty of black Mercedes Benz around America but somehow, they always reminded her of someone. She was still lost in thought when the driver's door opened and out stepped (_ha-ha, I should have seen it coming,_ she laughed to herself bitterly) Kyouya.

"Kyou-chan! It's been a while!"

"Hani-senpai," Kyouya greeted the loli-shota politely with a bow. He nodded to Mori-senpai in his cool and collected sort of way.

"Well then!" Kaoru said cheerfully as he started walking back inside. "I think it's about time we checked-in and get settled. Don't you think so, Hikaru?"

"Yeah," Hikaru threw a suspicious glance at Kyouya. "I guess."

"Okay!" Hani smiled up at Mori. "Let's go!"

Haruhi wasn't sure that she wanted them to leave or move out of Kyouya's apartment. How was she going to think things through? And with him standing here no less!

"Haruhi…" Tamaki started.

"I should be getting back," Haruhi said quickly before Kyouya could say anything. "I still have a lot of work to do. Take care—call me if you need me."

She bowed to them hurriedly and turned away. She reached the safety of her car when she dared to gaze up. Haruhi found herself staring straight into dark grey orbs of emotion. And then all of a sudden, she felt the urge to say exactly what was on her mind—but she wasn't sure exactly what she was thinking in the first place, so she clamped her mouth shut and forced herself into her car.

She still needed time to think things over. Haruhi wanted to be careful this time. When he left her, she still had the time to sulk but now that she was a lawyer with a very timely schedule, she couldn't waste that time sulking if the same thing happened again.

She let out a sigh as she started up the engine. As she pulled away from the curb of the hotel, she didn't notice the pair of onyx eyes filled with heavy emotions watching her leave.

--

**Author's Note:** It's been such a long time since I've posted! I apologize for the long delay…college took a bit more of a toll on me than I thought. Now that it's winter break, I can write easier and hopefully finish this fanfic! I know that I probably lost a good number of readers due to my inactivity, but I wholeheartedly thank those who are still sticking to this crappy story of mine!

**Happy holidays, everyone!**

- "Kyouya-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai" Please note that Haruhi has reverted her speech back to how they were at Ouran.  
- "Ootori-san" The suffix -san is used for those who are not close to you and is unisex.  
- "Tono" is translated roughly into "lord" or "milord" and that's what the twins call Tamaki.  
- "Haru-chan!" The prefix -chan is used for those either younger than you, or someone you are affectionately close to.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	9. Selenite

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** all KyouyaxHaruhi fans out there.  
**Dedicated to:** Taguchi Junnosuke! He's such a cutie—and pretty normal for a Japanese idol! In my eyes, he pwns Kame and Jin! -runs from akame fans- (And much thanks for my friend who inspired me for parts of this chapter. She's just such a music lover and I love her sense of originality—she's much more knowledgeable than me about music and reading her xanga entries about how music heals her is always something I can relate to.)  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...I am not awesome enough to be them. T-T

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Nine:**

_Ah, a light flickers in the ruined city  
And an invisible tune, full of wishes, echoes around_

_Now, the burned-down sky sinks to the bottom of the water  
And is filled with moonlight_

_Dyed in the blue burning night  
Your shoulders are so slender they're almost not there  
I hang on tight to them but still you fade away…__  
_("Selenite" by RURUTIA)

Kyouya sat up in bed, feeling his body drenched in sweat. He gazed over at his clock and realized that it was only two a.m. in the morning and he let out a sigh as he left the too-warm comforts of his bed.

He hated the feeling of emptiness in his home. He supposed that this feeling was a result of his stupidity and hotheadedness, but somehow, he couldn't accept it that way. It was his fault, he'll admit, but…well, it just didn't sit well with him. There was never a night where he didn't think about his mistakes (therefore, leading to insomnia and he lost a good amount of sleep every night) and there was never a free moment where he didn't think about her and what he had done to her. That goal he held tightly to his chest was of no more use to him…after all, it put her through so much pain and it truly never amounted to anything, especially under his father's corporation. That's why he didn't accept the business after it had been named his. After working so hard and watching the business closely, he realized that he would never achieve his goals through the Ootori Corporation. He had to start over from scratch, with his own bare hands. That set him back and brought up regrets that he wished he could push away, but he knew that there was no way to turn back time.

He wandered over to his living room and dropped into the cool, leather couch. He didn't bother grabbing his glasses when he left his room and now his entire apartment looked blurry and unfamiliar. But this feeling wasn't new to him. He constantly felt that his surroundings were blurred even with his glasses on. The only place he didn't feel that way was in his current office.

His company now was small—well, compared to the Ootori Corporation, of course—but it was growing at a consistent pace, in which he was very contented with. He didn't mind at all that he was disowned; that family drove him to the brink of insanity. Despite knowing that, he cursed at himself for falling prey to them in the first place. If only he had thought of creating his own company in the first place, he wouldn't have hurt Haruhi the way he did. But…when did he change his goals? He wanted to take over the Ootori Corporation for the longest time, so when did that goal change?

It was probably late in their relationship—two or three years, to be exact. He finally found the time to visit Haruhi's mother's grave with her and listened to Haruhi reminisce fondly at the memories of her mother. As Haruhi spoke, her eyes teared up, but she kept that smile on her face. He was awkward at that time (when was he never awkward around crying women?) and wasn't quite sure what to do. Instead he handed her his handkerchief and held her hand tightly as she dabbed delicately at her tears.

Ah, that must have been it. He remembered that warm spark that lit up in his head as they began to walk out of the cemetery. They passed by at least a dozen grieving families and he told himself that he was going to become a doctor and take over the Ootori Corporation to change it so that it benefitted those in need. That was such a simple conclusion to come to and he thought that, should he work hard at it, he would eventually create the chance to change everything for the better.

They could work side by side, he thought to himself at that time. She a lawyer to help those who were being taken advantage of by others and he a doctor (and businessman—after all, he was born and raised as one) who could save more lives and, hopefully, see less crying families at the graveyards. He wouldn't have thought of this before but being with Haruhi opened his eyes to a lot of different things. It wasn't all about the commoner world and their strange, cheap, snacks or their ability to bargain and save money; it was more about the suffering that both of their worlds had to endure as human beings, not as peasants or kings.

Kyouya let out a slow, heavy sigh as he gazed at the piano sitting in the corner of the room. He hollowly chuckled to himself as he stood and walked towards the moon-bathed instrument. Carefully lifting the cover, he ran his fingers lightly over the ivory keys, trying desperately to remember the song that he heard so long ago.

It was a song that he had never heard anyone play before—not Beethoven, not Mozart, not Chopin, not Bach, not Tamaki. He heard it sometimes in his childhood and it had less than recently shown up once or twice when he was with Haruhi years ago. Between the age of eight and sixteen, his life was silent in the ways of music. He heard no melodies, only the demands of his father and the criticism and pity of his father's peers. The only melody that he heard during that time was due to Tamaki playing the piano. After he left everything he knew back in Japan to go to England, he decided to take up piano. It wasn't because he was trying to beat Tamaki at his own game (he could easily do that anyway), but because the song was being smothered by something and it bothered him.

_Just like how Haruhi took up painting, you took up the piano,_ he remembered one of the conversations with Tamaki when he and the twins first arrived in America. _Both of you are stubborn and always blaming yourselves for everything._

He closed his eyes as his fingers settled gracefully on the keys and he began to play. He wasn't quite sure what he was playing or who it was that composed the song, but it didn't matter. It never mattered to him what he was playing—all that mattered was that he was able to release the pent up emotions inside of him as he played the tune that fit perfectly.

It was easy to get lost in music. He could play all of his problems away in an instant. It was only now, after his own personal experience, that he could understand why Tamaki's playing was so beautiful. His playing wasn't as developed as Tamaki's but he felt that there were similarities in their playing; it both came from the heart, after all.

Kyouya allowed the last note to die out slowly before he opened his eyes. Feeling a lot more rejuvenated, he stood and returned to his room to dress. Now that he felt his determination restructure itself, it was the perfect time to go down to his office and continue working.

He took an idle gaze at the clock on the wall and dismissed the earliness it told. An hour and a half had passed quickly and he was slightly thankful for that. After all, three-thirty in the morning wasn't too early to get to work. And he wasn't quite sure he was settled enough to leave Haruhi's client alone, even if he had a few of his loyal bodyguards (one followed him from the Ootori name) care after her.

After he dressed quickly in a pair of black trousers and a dark turtleneck, he grabbed his keys and left the apartment complex, not bothering to gaze behind him at Haruhi's door. He didn't need to think about her when he had more important business to take care of—like that suspicious Jason Hunt that she introduced to them some time ago.

As a businessman, he could judge people easily. Whether they lied, whether they were reliable, whether they were threats to a company weren't hard to distinguish. This ability his father taught him, he was secretly thankful for and would be the _only_ thing to be thankful for. When he first set eyes on Jason Hunt, something didn't sit well with him. Of course, there was the obvious jealousy that he managed to push aside (not to mention that Jason said everything that he needed to hear that his friends never said to him and was the one who helped Haruhi build herself up as a budding lawyer) but once he managed to tame that side of himself, there was something about him that he simply did not like. There was something wrong with Jason Hunt's character and he intended to do full research on his background.

"Good morning, sir," Tachibana—one of his bodyguards since he was a little boy—greeted him casually as he entered his office building as if four a.m. wasn't too early to start work.

"Good morning, Tachibana," Kyouya greeted in return as he handed the man his keys, "How is she?"

"Sleeping peacefully, sir," the man's sunglasses looked obscure on his face since it was still dark outside. "She woke up once but fell back asleep immediately afterwards."

"Thank you,"

Kyouya was secretly thankful of Tachibana. He was the only one of his three bodyguards that decided to follow him after he had been disowned by his father. The other two bodyguards wanted to follow him as well, but his father did everything in his power to stop them and he succeeded. He wasn't quite sure why Tachibana made it through all right but either way, he was very grateful of him. Tachibana even moved his family temporarily to the United States to help him.

He entered the room where they watched Ayano and waved away his staff members. They bowed respectfully and hurried out of the door, seeming very thankful that they received an unexpected break. Kyouya gazed down at the woman who was curled up tightly in a fetal position before he reached out to touch her hair.

"NO!"

Kyouya quickly stepped away, preparing himself for one of her many violent "tantrums" when she started crying and seemed to have given up to the mental monster that was haunting her.

"It's all right," he soothed her, careful not to touch her. "You'll be fine."

"Fu-Fujioka-san," the woman sobbed piteously into the blanket that they used to cover her. "H-help me…"

Kyouya frowned lightly at the sound of Haruhi's name but brushed it aside as he took this opportunity to touch the woman's forehead.

_No fever,_ he noted as he took away his hand. _She's in a much better condition than before._

"K-Kyouya-senpai?"

His shoulders tensed as her familiar voice drifted throughout the room. Oh god, now was not the time to go insane!

"Why are you here so early?"

He turned in his seat, expecting there to be no one else in the room with him besides Hanazawa Ayano only to find Haruhi standing there, looking worried.

"Fujioka-san,"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she stumbled over her words just a little to reveal her embarrassment. "I couldn't sleep because I was worried about Ayano-san and your bodyguards let me in so I thought it was okay…"

He swallowed the words he wanted to say and waved her in, trying to ignore the swelling emotions that were nearly filling the entire capacity of his lungs. He wasn't in the right mind-set; he needed some sort of mental stability at this time in the morning.

Kyouya watched her as she gazed down sadly at the woman. She raised her hand to pat the woman on her head and before he could stop her, her hand came in tender contact with Ayano's face. He was surprised to find that Ayano didn't react violently as she did with his staff and himself but rather, Ayano opened her eyes.

"Fujioka-san!"

He stepped away politely as the woman hugged Haruhi around the waist and began to cry. At this point, he felt as if he should leave them alone. After all, he was an outsider who, somehow (or rather, he wanted to), found his way in.

Kyouya was halfway to the door when Haruhi reached out and touched his arm.

"Don't leave," she said quietly, "please."

There was no way he could deny her request. It was something he wanted her to say to him after all these years. She wanted him to _stay_. Even though it probably didn't mean anything significant to her, it meant the world to him. He still had a chance! She still wanted him to be there! Granted, anyone could have been in his place and Haruhi probably didn't think much of her request, but he was one step closer. And that was all that mattered.

Kyouya seated himself back on the chair he was in before and watched silently as Haruhi soothed the distressed Ayano. There was nothing he could say to be of any comfort—he understood that words were empty, after all—and there was simply nothing he could do, but Haruhi asked him to stay and so he did.

He didn't mind watching her—he actually enjoyed it. Haruhi had a gentle nature underneath that blunt "commoner" appearance and he was completely and utterly drawn to it. Perhaps it was because he couldn't understand it and it mystified him, or maybe he just enjoys being entertained by someone whom he couldn't read.

Ootori Kyouya wasn't the type of man who would give up easily—or so he thought. But the moment he found that Haruhi was no longer in Japan, he almost wanted to die. He's made mistakes before in his life and he always found some sort of advantage out of his failures, but this was one failure that he couldn't be optimistic about. His entire character changed and he hated himself. He was already disgusted from himself in the beginning—all of the façades and little white lies—and was relieved when Tamaki saw through him and his walls. Finally, there was someone who could see through all of the lies and see that human side to him. He thought that Tamaki would be the only one who would be able to see the true Ootori Kyouya, but the moment he saw Haruhi, he knew that this girl was going to change him and his life. He wasn't quite sure in what way, but that didn't matter. She was going to change him and he was going to be unaware of it until it was too late.

Ayano stopped crying and was sleeping peacefully in Haruhi's arms. He stood from his seat and led Haruhi away from the woman and nodded to his staff to enter the room again. Leading her back outside where the sun was still in its slumber and the clouds heavy with rain covered it warmly, he analyzed the expression on her face carefully.

"Kyouya-senpai,"

He winced at the honorific added onto the end of his name.

"Yes?" he managed to say emotionlessly as he gazed into the dark horizon, avoiding her eyes.

"I'm not going to lose,"

He smiled to himself at her declaration and said quietly, "I know you won't."

It was just like her to say something like that in such a matter-of-fact manner. She never gave up. It was amazing. _She_ was amazing.

"Kyouya-senpai," she started again. This time he didn't reply and only waited for her to continue, "Why didn't you tell me you tried to kill yourself?"

And it was just like her to ask such a blunt question about a sensitive subject.

"There was no point in telling you about that part of my life," he stated as he leaned against the wall casually. "Would you rather I told you about every bit and detail about my pathetic life after leaving you?"

Haruhi was silent and he stole a gaze at her. She looked slightly hurt and ashamed at his comment and immediately, he reprimanded himself for saying something so heartlessly. He came to find her to tell her that he was sorry and to disappear forever from her life after his brother's court case was over, not to hurt her!

Before he could speak up, Haruhi said slowly, "I know that I shouldn't be prying in your private life, Kyouya-senpai…but can you blame me for worrying?"

"Why would you worry about the person who broke your heart into two?" he asked angrily, unable to grasp Haruhi's mentality. He couldn't understand! Everything would be so much simpler if she hated him. It would be easy to say good-bye and leave her for the last time, but hearing her say such comments to him so easily only made him want to stay. "I didn't even deserve to be with you when we were together."

And then Haruhi's eyes flashed dangerously underneath her brown bangs, "What do you mean by that?"

He gave a hollow laugh, "You can't possibly have enjoyed being with me, Haruhi—look at who I was back then! I nearly forced you to be with me because I was so deeply infatuated with you! And what did I do after that? I left you to go to England and ended up screwing up my life _and_ yours! Is this the type of man that deserves you?"

Kyouya could see how his words affected her but he simply couldn't stop. All of these passionate emotions that he held back were rushing out of his mouth and he let them. He loved this woman with his entire being, but he knew that he didn't deserve her love or her sympathies. There was no way he would be able to live with himself!

"You forced me to be with you?"

There it was. The anger he almost longed to hear in her voice was evident and he nearly relished in it. He needed her to be angry with him or else he was going to continue living his life aimlessly, hidden deep in his self-contempt and guilt.

"Isn't that the case?" he asked cockily.

"You are so impudent!" she proclaimed as she threw her hands up in the air. "Do you really think you had that much power over me?"

She didn't wait for him to comment but instead, began to rant, "You can't have possibly thought that the only reason I was with you was because I was frightened of you! You may have been powerful, senpai, but, I assure you, you aren't that powerful. The only reason I stayed with you was because I enjoyed your company! How could you have mistaken that for fear!?"

"No woman," he started, towering over her, "in their right mind would want to be with a person like me."

"I'm not like any other woman," she declared, staring straight up into his dark eyes with her livid eyes. "I stayed by your side because I loved you! Do you not understand the concept of love?!"

"No," he said as he glanced away, "I don't understand it."

Haruhi was quiet and he gazed back down at her, surprised to find shock in her eyes. He felt the light pitter-patter of rain falling and cursed himself for taking her outside for fresh air. They were caught in the rain like this last time and Haruhi couldn't afford to get sick now. She had various court cases to take care of, including his brother's.

"We're finished here," he let out a fake irritated sigh. "You should return home. I'll take care of Ayano-san."

His words must have hurt her more than he intended because he felt his cheek sting a moment after that.

"Stop acting so high and mighty, Ootori Kyouya," she hissed angrily as she attempted to shake the pain from her own aching hand. "It's not doing you any good."

Kyouya watched as she turned on her heels and stalked towards her car, shaking the rain from her hair in vain. And as he watched her drive off, a sense of relief took over his body like poison.

He deserved it.

--

**Author's Note:** Hello, everyone! And hello again, to those of you who also follow "Invisible"! I have finally finished chapter nine! YAYYY! And I'm 1/3 done with chapter ten. Aren't you guys proud?

Anyway, college life has been really busy and hectic, but because of that, I've been writing a lot more (tsk tsk, Kuron!) haha. But I hope you all enjoyed this chapter—I guess. Remember, this is in the future after a whole series of events happened, so please don't expect me being so in-character. There will be changes in personality and character, but I'll try not to modify too much (after all, Kyouya just wouldn't be Kyouya without his Shadow King-ness!)

Thank you all for being so patient and supportive!

- "Tachibana" is actually one of Bisco Hatori-sensei's characters. Those of you who read the extra at the end of volume 9 (I think), Tachibana is an actual character who doesn't show up much. We don't know much about him except that he is very kind-hearted and understands Kyouya's nature to a T. I actually enjoyed him so much that I wanted to introduce him in "Endless Story".  
- "Fujioka-san" The suffix -san is used for those who are not close to you and is unisex.  
- "Kyouya-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai" Please note that Haruhi has reverted her speech back to how they were at Ouran.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	10. Tsumetai Yoru

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** me, for once. I missed writing KyouxHaru while in college. This is to rekindle the love I have for this pairing. (And, guiltily, a dislike for a few pairings that has been grinding on my nerves, for some strange reason…)  
**Dedicated to:** Hyde from L'arcenCiel! If anyone watched Cartoon KAT-TUN with him as a guest, he's so cute it's almost un-Hyde-ish.  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...so leave this poor writer be!!

**Endless Story**  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Ten:**

_Thinking there was not a single thing  
left to believe in,  
Among the crowds coming and going  
in the monochrome world,  
I bowed my head_

_I realized, from your words  
The single flower nestled against my feet  
As if to insist that I'm not afraid  
even if I lose, I walked forward...__  
_("Tsumetai Yoru" by Matsukaze Masaya)

Haruhi was still seething in anger, something she didn't do regularly. She was so angry that she could hardly see straight as she stalked back to her apartment, dripping water every stomp of the way. Her blood was pumping melted iron in her veins and she could feel the irritating tears sting her eyes blindly. Just thinking about that man and his selfishness made her lose control of her temper. She shoved her key into the keyhole as she recalled Kaoru's words and then Kyouya's.

She didn't know how many times she scolded herself for letting Kyouya under her skin, which resulted in nothing but her losing her heated head. But, wasn't it natural for her to be angry with him?

"The stupid, stupid fool," she muttered underneath her breath. "Stupid!"

She entered her apartment and tossed her keys on the counter. Making her way to the bathroom, she attempted to push all of her thoughts into the recycle bin at the back of her mind. She, unfortunately, failed miserably at it. Angered by having such little control over her thoughts, she viciously pulled a towel from a rack and began to dry her wet hair with unnecessary force.

After a moment, her anger taken out on her poor hair, she stopped abruptly and stared at herself in the mirror. He was such an idiot; an awkward, stupid, idiotic, stubborn idiot. He was always held up by his pride and cool façade, hiding behind his damn glasses and his intelligence and rationality. Couldn't he—just once—stop pretending that he was still the Shadow King from years ago!?

"STUPID!" she threw her damp towel at the mirror. "Why must he be so stupid!?"

She was frustrated with how blockheaded he was; how utterly stupid he was to think that way. They were together for so long—how could he think that way? All of those years! What did they amount to in his mind? Was their relationship that simple? Were their_ feelings_ that simple?!

Haruhi picked up the towel almost sadly and folded it, placing it gently by the sink. Letting out a sigh, she walked back into the living room and seated herself in front of her easel.

She thought they were happy together. Or, at least, she had been happy being with him. Why would he have thought otherwise? Did she give him any indication that she didn't enjoy spending time with him?

Haruhi clenched her fists, forgetting all about the neglected painting in front of her as she thought of him again.

He was the only man who drove her emotions wild. She had absolutely no power over herself when he was around her, and she always unwillingly allowed his words to hit her where it hurt the most—or rather he knew exactly what would make her upset.

She let out another sigh, slowly loosening her fists and then rested them upon her lap.

But Ootori Kyouya wasn't that sort of a man. She knew that he would never readily hurt her—or anyone for that matter. He was completely harmless and she knew that. The past few years had changed him: he was mellow and docile, somber and even more serious than before, but why? Why does she feel so insulted whenever he opened his mouth? Their conversations always turned into arguments and their arguments were constantly filled with poisoned words that caused her to lose her precious sleep at night.

A knock on the door pushed her out of her thoughts and Haruhi was immensely thankful of the person behind it. She rose out of her seat, grateful for the distraction. She opened the door to find Mori standing there, looking as stoic and gentle as ever.

"Mori-senpai!" she smiled up at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Haruhi," the tall man offered her a small smile. "May I come in?"

"Oh, of course," Haruhi flushed lightly in her embarrassment of her rudeness. "Please come in."

She watched as he gracefully stepped into her apartment. She had always felt safe when Mori was around. He was a dependable person with a very warm and protective presence. She never felt threatened or the least bit intimidated by him.

He methodically took off his shoes and walked in his silent manner into the living room.

"Ah, please sit and make yourself comfortable," Haruhi smiled at him as she joined him. "I'll make some tea."

"Thank you,"

Haruhi went into the kitchen, recalling the conversation she had with Kaoru just a day ago. It felt like it's been weeks since she last learned of everything—the truth. She was unsure of her feelings towards the new discoveries but now was not the time to think about it.

"So what brings you here, Mori-senpai?" she asked as she returned with a hot pot of tea and two cups. She knelt down in front of the table and carefully poured the tea into their cups.

"Kyouya," he answered simply as he accepted the warm cup of tea gracefully.

"What about him?" she asked casually, taking a nonchalant sip from her own cup.

"He has fallen ill,"

Haruhi paused. It's been such a long time since she had heard that he'd fallen ill. The last time that happened, he had overworked himself, disregarding meals and sleep for two days straight. It made her heart pound endlessly as she cared for him until she was sure that he was fine.

_Only now, it has nothing to do with me,_ she thought to herself as she took another sip. _Nothing at all._

"Haruhi," Mori said gently, "won't you go see him?"

"No," she said with resolution. "He's made it clear that—"

"What do _you_ want, Haruhi?"

Haruhi knew that Mori was always observant (Hani-senpai too) and although there were times where she appreciated that, this was one time she despised his skills.

What _did _she want? No, that was a really stupid question; was she strong enough to take the risk of pursuing exactly what she wanted without getting hurt? Was she willing to become vulnerable and allow him to do whatever he wished with everything she had? She wasn't a saint, nor was she strong enough to possess the ability to forgive him a second time. She wasn't a martyr, and she didn't want to become one in vain. There were so many people suffering now; this wasn't exactly the time she was allowed to be selfish. However…

"I want a lot of things," she murmured, almost to herself, as she let out a sigh. "I just don't have time for it."

"Is it because of your job?" Mori asked her curiously as he set his empty cup down.

"Yes," she admitted, pouring him another cup of sweet jasmine tea. "There are people out there who need me, Mori-senpai. I can't abandon them."

"Since when did pursuing what you want prevent you from assisting their needs?" Mori sat back on the couch and looked at her intently. "How can you protect other people's happiness when you cannot protect your own?"

Haruhi was silent. It was the thought that she always wanted to suppress. She knew that her excuses were only temporary barriers that she set up herself such a long time ago. But was Kyouya really the root of her happiness?

"I know," Mori started as he let out an inaudible sigh, "that you may question Kyouya's motives—"

"I don't," she laughed at the irony of it all. "I just can't choose between my clients and myself. My clients must come first."

"Isn't that exactly how Kyouya felt about the Ootori Corporation?"

Here, Haruhi could feel her eyes widen. And then, without really knowing why, she burst out into jovial laughter. Somehow, all of the jig-saw puzzle pieces fell into place in this one very short moment, and it felt as if the blurry vision had been cleared away. She could see everything plainly for once, and it was hilarious.

She and Kyouya were still alike, in so many different and subtle ways. It was no wonder she still felt so drawn to him. They may be different people now, but they were still the same on the inside…and really, wasn't that all that mattered?

Haruhi wiped away her tears as she clutched at her aching stomach. Kyouya might have been stupid, but she was the exact same way. That in itself was enough of an answer for her.

Mori was smiling at her, and she replied with her own smile.

"If you don't mind, Mori-senpai, will you please help me prepare some food and medicine for him?"

"It will be my pleasure, Haruhi."

--

"Thank you, Mori-senpai," Haruhi said to him as they both left her apartment with a large basket in her hands. "I really appreciate everything."

"I know," he nodded as he patted her briefly on the head. "Now go."

Haruhi waved to him as he left and turned to stare at Kyouya's door. Taking a deep breath (she may have realized her own feelings, but that didn't mean she and Kyouya were going to get along), she knocked on the door gently. She didn't expect an answer—he _was_ sick after all—but was surprised to find him gazing down at her.

"I heard you were sick," she heard herself saying dumbly.

"I'm fine," he said with obvious stubbornness.

"If you're fine, then won't you let me in?" Haruhi smiled up at him.

"If I'm fine, why would you need to come in?"

"There are some things we need to discuss," she continued to smile up at him, not allowing her determination to waver. "And if you're fine, there shouldn't be any problems with letting me in and chatting for a bit."

Kyouya stared at her for a long moment before letting out a sigh and stepping away from the door, revealing him in a T-shirt and pajama pants.

_There's no point in lying to me,_ Haruhi shook her head as she stepped through the doorway cautiously.

"Please sit," he gestured towards his sophisticated living room stiffly. It seems that he hadn't forgotten their argument a couple of hours ago. "Tea?"

"No, thank you," she declined politely as she set the basket down next to her feet.

"Well, then," he seated himself across from her. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Kyouya-senpai," Haruhi began. She paused at her use of the honorific and let out a sigh, "Kyouya."

He was silent before he uttered an emotionless, "Yes?"

"About this morning's argument,"

"There's nothing left to discuss."

"You can't decide that for me,"

"Fine, what do you want to know then? Would you like to argue some more? I'll be happy to oblige."

"Oh, stop it," Haruhi could feel anger prickling at her skin. "You're acting like a child."

There was an awkward silence on her part, and she let out another sigh to calm herself, "Kyouya, why do you avoid the subject?"

"I'm ashamed of it," he answered easily, "naturally. Do you normally converse with people about your shame, Fujioka-san?"

Haruhi winced, remembering how she snapped at him not to call her any familiar names. With Kyouya being so hateful to himself and pushing her away, she felt a pain sharper than one she envisioned and prepared herself for.

"No," she admitted as she folded her hands primly in her lap to keep them from shaking. "But I'm not just anyone."

"You are the last person I would speak to about those affairs," he said in that same monotone voice.

"You know that's not true," she said quietly. She gazed up from her hands and stared into his eyes defiantly, "I am the only person you would speak to about "those affairs"! If I was the last person you would talk to about them, you would have told Tamaki-senpai or Mori-senpai already!" She took a deep breath, still unfinished, "But they know nothing about what goes on in your head, isn't that right, Kyouya? No matter how much they try to understand, you just won't let them. You always try to suffer by yourself, but I suppose you don't know just how much everyone else is suffering with you as they watch you struggle!

"I won't say I understand because it is quite apparent that I don't, but there's no reason for you to act all high and mighty when all you've done is harm yourself and those around you!"

She was breathless after this rant and realized with a groan that she opened her big mouth again. _Darn it,_ she sighed in exasperation of herself.

Kyouya was silent and did not resolve to say anything in his own defense.

Haruhi recognized this immediately and could not help but feel pity on his behalf. He continually blamed himself, discharging all emotional attachment from himself. It was vexing to see him in such a pathetic state, while all she could do was watch.

"I do not expect of you to understand any of my sentiments," he said quietly as his dark eyes moved towards the glossy piano. "Nor do I wish of you to understand them. It would be more beneficial for you to cut your ties from me."

"I will be the one who decides what is beneficial and what is not," she stated just as quietly. "And I will have you know that relieving myself of you is the last thing I want!"

An awkward silence fell upon them, but Haruhi did not care to waver. She longed, with the utmost femininity, to embrace this statue of a man—a man she cared for with complete devotion. She could understand his sentiments—though he would only contradict her feelings—and this only brought more intimacy on her part.

"You don't know what you want," Kyouya did not remove his eyes from the piano. "You remain trapped in the past,"

"That may be so," Haruhi retaliated smartly, "but at least my emotions are not pitiful!"

"I don't have the time for this," he prepared to stand. "This conversation is over."

"It's not over until you listen to what I have to say,"

"You've said enough."

"And you don't believe me?"

"No,"

"You're presumptuous," she glared up at him as he made his way over to her. "You have no thought of my feelings or thoughts; you are only wholly engrossed in your own!"

"I'm doing it for your own good," his voice was lowering dangerously, but Haruhi continued.

"And what do you know of it? All that occupies your mind is how you have wronged me and yourself, how all you've done is drive me to my ruins, but you never once thought of my views towards your actions!"

He was leaning over her, his eyes clouded with anger and irritation. She stared back at him with obstinacy, unruffled by the proximities of their bodies. They remain in irate silence until Haruhi noticed the fatigue gathering under his dark, obsidian eyes.

"You are ill," she turned away towards the basket of food and medicine that she and Mori had prepared for him. "Now is not the time to discuss this."

"I am not—"

"Hush," she stood from her seat and pushed him down easily onto the couch to their side. She pulled out a warm blanket from the top of her large basket and proceeded to cover his limp body with its substantial heat. "You know very well you are ill. As a person who grew up with hospitals, you are one who should understand the importance of one's health."

He said nothing—he had probably given up at this point and allowed her to execute her desires as she wished—and instead obediently closed his eyes.

As she tended to him, she could only smile down at him, without his knowledge. She adored his wit and intelligence and his will to do what he believed was right. She only hoped from the bottom of her heart that he could, one day, understand her emotions and her desires to remain close to him.

After the conversation previously held with Mori, she began to realize the intensity of her feelings towards this man. The time they've spent apart did nothing to lessen those feelings; if anything, they've only strengthened into something more than mere love. But is there anything stronger than love?

Kyouya mumbled in his sleep, and she let out a small laugh. She wasn't quite sure why she felt compelled to laugh, but it made her feel incredible.

Haruhi stood up and gazed around his apartment. It was still as spacious and clean as it had been the first time she stepped into his domain. Her eyes strayed over to the piano. She took a step towards it, and before she realized it, she was pushing up the cover and running her fingers lightly over the ivory keys.

It was strange to touch this instrument that was so important to Kyouya. This piano was grand, dark, glossy, and beautiful, and it reflected everything that he was. She pressed down gently on the B flat key and its sweet sound resounded deeply in her chest. The vision of him seating himself calmly at the seat and playing so serenely nearly made her weak at the knees. It was so strange that even after all of these years, he still had such a strong affect on her. Then again, he _was_ Kyouya.

She seated herself at the piano, despite not knowing a thing about music. Just sitting here calmed her.

Suddenly, she heard her cell phone ring loudly from her pocket, and she hurriedly flipped it open as she stepped out of Kyouya's apartment to avoid waking him, "This is Haruhi Fujioka speaking,"

"Haruhi,"

Haruhi froze, "Jason."

"I am sure you are aware what is happening next week."

Haruhi composed herself, "I am quite aware, thank you."

She could hear him chuckling over the phone, "This is the first time you've been in court against me, Haruhi."

"Is that a threat, Jason?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Jason was laughing outright now, "just a fair warning, my dear Haruhi."

"Of course," she replied modestly. "Thank you for the warning. I assure you that I have taken it to heart."

Jason must have caught onto her sarcasm, because she could hear his tone change, "Don't underestimate me, Haruhi. I will not hesitate to bring you down."

"Is that jealousy I sense from you?" Haruhi was surprised when she found that her cell phone had been pulled out of her hand. "Leave Haruhi alone, Hunt."

"Kyouya!" she reached over to grab the phone from him.

He dodged her hand and walked back into his apartment, still speaking, "You are the one underestimating her."

Haruhi hurried back into his apartment, attempting to retrieve her phone when he paused in his steps.

"Kyouya?"

"She may be a woman," Kyouya's voice was dangerously low, "and that may make her seem naïve to you, Hunt, but I assure you, she will not lose against an immoral character such as yourself."

He angrily snapped the phone shut and let out an audible sigh. Returning the phone to her, he sunk into the sofa he had been laying in previously.

"Thank you," she murmured as she seated herself next to him.

"What for?" He didn't even bother to look at her.

"Defending me,"

"Don't worry about it."

"But—"

"I was only speaking the truth."

They were both silent for a while when Haruhi allowed herself to speak again, "I apologize for everything I said to you before. It was immature of me."

"Don't apologize. You spoke the truth. You don't need to apologize for that."

"That's not my point!"

"Haruhi," Kyouya turned his head to look at her. "The last thing I want from you is an apology that I do not deserve. Please don't make it any harder for me."

She knew exactly what he was referring to. He didn't want her to make it harder for him to leave her, but she didn't want him to leave!

_Selfish git,_ she mumbled to herself.

"Then I'll make it even harder for you," she declared loudly. She gazed up at him seriously, "Then you won't be able to leave me, right?"

--

**Author's Note:** Oh garsh! CLIFFHANGER. MUWAHHAHAH. I love my role as an author )

I'm so sorry this took so long to get out. I lost inspiration halfway through the story and couldn't write for about a month (or was it two?), but, anyway, I watched The Sound of Music (for the umpteenth time) the first time in a very, very long time and felt inspired again. Don't tell me how I related The Sound of Music to Kyouya and Haruhi's romance, but I did and that's all that matters. (Actually, I relate a lot of stuff to Kyouya and Haruhi, so it's really not a surprise. Jane Austen is also a huuuuge influence on me! D)

I would like to say that I'd try to release speedier chapters, but that would be lying on my part. I apologize for making so many of you wait, but please be patient. I'm very busy with college and training for my summer internship, so I may not update much, but don't think that I've disappeared! I will never disappear ;) We need more KyouxHaru love in the world!!!!

- "Matsukaze Masaya" Ootori Kyouya's voice actor (aka: seiyuu) If you've never heard Kyouya's image song: "Tsumetai Yoru" by him before, YOU SHOULD. And if you don't know where to find it, please feel free to IM/e-mail me and I will be happy to send it to you!  
- "Mori-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai" Please note that Haruhi has reverted her speech back to how they were at Ouran.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	11. Long Way To Happy

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** MY SANITY. SERIOUSLY.  
**Dedicated to:** Miyano Mamoru! He's Tamaki's voice actor! It doesn't matter to me that he's Tamaki's voice actor (because my favorite character is Kyouya, so there) but he's such a cutie! He's a huuuuuuge cutie! )  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...so allow this stressed college student some happiness in her fantasy world! And it's not like she's getting paid for writing this anyway. SO THERE. Psh.

**Endless Story**_  
A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_  
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

--

**Chapter Eleven:**

_It's gonna take a long time to love__  
It's gonna take a lot to hold on  
It's gonna be a long way to happy, yeah__  
Left in the pieces that you broke me into  
__Torn apart but now I've got to__  
Keep on rolling like a stone  
'Cause it's gonna be a long, long way to happy…__  
_("Long Way To Happy" by P!NK)

She hummed to herself cheerfully as she picked up her briefcase and her dark blue blazer on her way out of the door.

The past couple of days had been extremely uplifting for her. Ayano had improved so quickly that they managed to talk through many of the fears that the poor woman possessed. This included a very heart-wrenching story that involved the night when Ayano was attacked by Tsumi.

"_F-Fujioka-san," Ayano's voice quivered, "I have something to talk to you about."_

"_Yes, of course," Haruhi said quietly, patting her client on the hand. "I'm here to listen."_

"_It's about that night," her voice cracked. "I have to tell you what happened."_

"_You don't have to if you're not ready," Haruhi hurriedly said, not at all thinking about her role as Ayano's lawyer._

"_I have to tell you," Ayano stated firmly. "If I don't, we won't be able to win against Tsumi. He has Jason Hunt."_

"_I assure you that Jason Hunt is not a major factor, Ayano-san," Haruhi could feel her adrenaline and determination rise at the very mention of that man's name. "We have powerful evidence against his claims."_

Her recollection of their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yes?" she opened the door to find Kyouya standing there. She smiled. "Kyouya,"

Ever since that day at his apartment, they had been driving to his office together, as to save gas and money. Also, since Ayano is recuperating at his office, it really just gave her a valid reason to spend more time with this different Kyouya that still captured her interest. He opposed her proposition at first, stating that he was not going to reenter her life so intimately, but she explained the economic and personal benefits that may come from their carpooling. Kyouya had stared at her for a moment before breaking out in deep chuckles, and agreed.

She wondered what he thought when he chuckled at her, his eyes glinting with a hint of contentment. He was such an interesting character; one with secrets and hidden ambitions.

"You're still an enigma," she said to herself aloud as they headed down to his car.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," she smiled up at him, "just thinking to myself."

Kyouya didn't reply, but she caught a little smirk on his face. She had no doubt that he had heard her. They were both silent as they slid into his black Mercedes, but she found it very comfortably soundless. There was some sort of peaceful air between them, and it was something that she missed when they were together.

When she was alone after he had left, she never realized how large her apartment was or how dull her life was without him. They weren't together twenty-four-seven, but just knowing that she was going to see him eventually was enough to soothe her nerves. When her mind registered his absence, she began to realize that she depended on him for many things.

It drove her insane. She knew right then and there that she was dependent on him; just the thought of that made her feel like she's gone off her rocker. She felt like she had no direction in life because he had been the one guiding her. Truthfully, that was all in her head—Kyouya had nothing to do with her ambitions—but he was one who supported her silently and diligently. Many people thought Kyouya was just a cold, manipulative git who thought of no one but himself, but she knew better. _She_ knew better. She knew that he would go to the ends of the earth to help out a friend, but she also knew that he was aware of when he should keep out of others' business. _That_, she noted, was a precious, precious gift.

When she realized that Kyouya did all of this, it made her admire him. Well, if she thought about it, she's always admired him. He made it his business to know exactly what was going on with the world, with people. Of course, his enemies would have a hard time slipping past Kyouya's skillful eyes, but his friends were stuck with one very loyal companion. He was almost like a guard dog.

At this thought, Haruhi let out a low chuckle. The slight sound seemed to have alerted the "guard dog," and he turned to her, an elegant eyebrow raised in hidden interest. She only replied with a reticent smile and turned her attention out of the window again.

It wasn't hard to choose one person out of everyone in the Host Club to pursue a relationship with, if at all. At first, the only thing she wanted was to repay her debt and get out of there as soon as possible because those guys were absolutely insane. But after a while, she realized that there was more to the boys than money and sophisticated grandeur. Tamaki was a loving and caring person, always putting forth one hundred and ten percent in understanding commoner culture; Hikaru was a fun-loving, awkward boy who did all he could to make her life miserable, but even then, he was very protective of her and Kaoru; Kaoru was thoughtful and sharp, always thinking about others before himself; Hani-senpai was very watchful and mindful of those around him (and cute to boot. He shared her love of strawberries too!); Mori-senpai was loyal and quiet and stable, but only Kyouya aroused any sort of curiosity within her. He was mysterious and superbly aloof, but a genius in his own right.

At first, she feared his ultimate Shadow-King-ness (she had no other way to describe it), but as with the other boys, she noticed that under the calm and collected mask he hid a much more patient and noble side of him. She admired that guarded gallantry and began to watch him even closer.

Kyouya, of course, noticed her curiosity almost immediately. He would always catch her watching him much less subtly than he did her. Eventually, he confronted her in secret, and she realized just how attracted she was to him. Actually, now that she reflected upon their past, she wasn't even quite sure how they began courting. It was something more of a natural step for them, and they entered that part of the relationship so smoothly that she couldn't even remember how it happened.

As she pondered this mystery, her eyes were taking in the various sights of her beautiful Californian city. The buildings, the bustling of the crowds outside enjoying the comfortable West Coast air, she absolutely loved it all. A familiar face in the crowd pulled her out of her reverie, and her eyes widened as that smiling face greeted a much-less liked face.

"You knew, didn't you?" she whispered as they passed the couple with lightning speed, but the looks on their faces remained with her.

"Knew what?" Kyouya responded with the same quietness.

"That Jeanne and Jason Hunt were an item,"

Kyouya was silent before he answered, "Yes."

Haruhi turned towards him, an unfamiliar feeling squeezed at her throat, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have believed me?" was his simple answer.

She gave a short laugh, wiping away a few tears from her cheeks as she returned her attention to the window, "No."

Haruhi was surprised a moment later when a hand reached for hers. She gazed up at his stoic face—it seemed as if his gesture wasn't at all abnormal to him—and then moved her gaze to their linked hands. Smiling lightly to herself, she squeezed his hand just enough to reassure herself that his hand was real (and to assure him that she wasn't angry with him.)

The rest of the car ride was silent, mutual in understanding. She pondered about this new Kyouya, and, laughing at the irony, found that this new person was still someone who interested her. In fact, he interested her more than he did before. And as he lifted his hand from hers to park, she reluctantly watched as its warmth faded from hers.

"Kyouya-sama," a bodyguard bowed as he opened the door. "Haruhi-san."

"Tachibana-san," Haruhi smiled as she slipped out of her seat. "Thank you for coming to greet us."

"It's nothing," he replied with his own amiable smile. It was hard to imagine him as Kyouya's bodyguard when he has such a friendly personality. Perhaps it was because of his friendly personality that he could get along with "Kyouya-sama." She remembered asking him that once when she and Kyouya were at their first date, and Kyouya left to answer a phone call. She could recall the look on Tachibana's face as he explained to her how Kyouya was the one who saved him. He never got a chance to tell her the story, so Haruhi made a mental note to ask him about it later. Thinking back at Kyouya being disowned by his father, she could only imagine how difficult it must have been for Tachibana to slip past Kyouya's father's watchful eye to follow Kyouya. She didn't understand much about the habits and views of the rich, but she knew enough that Kyouya being dismissed from the family would also affect those who served him. "Are you doing well, Haruhi-san?"

"I am well, thank you," she said as the three of them headed for Kyouya's building. "And how are you and your family? It must be so difficult for them to adjust to a new country."

"Ah, it's not a problem for them," Tachibana bowed to dismiss himself from their company as they entered the building, "they enjoy it here."

As they headed down to Ayano's temporary room, Haruhi gazed up at Kyouya's stoic face. She didn't want to instigate another argument, but she had to know before she went insane with curiosity. She placed a hand at Kyouya's arm and stopped him.

"Kyouya, I have a question for you."

He was silent, eyes searching hers for some sort of preparation before he answered, "Yes?"

"Why would you try to kill yourself?"

And as she suspected, he let out a sigh and pulled away from her, "That's none of your business, Haruhi."

"Yes, it is." Haruhi stopped him from walking any further. "Please, Kyouya; that is so unlike you. You've always held yourself in such high regard—you valued your life just as much as you valued everyone else's, so why would you do it?"

Kyouya said nothing, keeping his eyes hidden slyly behind his glasses. Haruhi reached up, took his glasses off, and was surprised to find the hard look in his eyes.

"Haruhi." Kyouya reached for his glasses, but she was careful to keep them from him.

"Kyouya, why did you think about something like that? Did you get help? Are you any better now? You know that sort of thought process is dangerous if it's not treated properly…"

"Haruhi," Kyouya repeated, shaking his head. "That is something that will not be discussed."

"Don't be a fool." Haruhi stuck his glasses in her briefcase. "This will be discussed whether you like it or not."

He let out another sigh, back against the wall opposite of her, and for the first time since she's seen him, he looked completely defeated. She was already surprised that he would let down his walls in front of her, but once he slid down the wall, she almost regretted asking him. Haruhi seated herself comfortably on her knees, hands clutching her briefcase tightly, awaiting his answer.

"It was foolish on my part," Kyouya muttered, one hand resting on his forehead. "I was determined to move past my mistakes, like I've always done. I could live reprimanding myself. But I realized that the person I've hurt the most was you. I promised myself that I wouldn't hurt you, no matter the circumstances. I hurt the person I treasured, and I couldn't live knowing I did."

"You foolish man." Haruhi said, careful to keep her voice steady. She lifted her body from her sitting stance, placed both of her hands on his bowed head, and rested her head on his. "Killing yourself wouldn't have made me happy at all."

They sat in the hallway together for another couple of silent minutes. The thought of Kyouya wanting to kill himself made her heart ache for many reasons, but he was here with her, wasn't he? He had friends who cared enough to help him realize that his life was worth so much more than that. Haruhi tried to imagine what life would be like for her if she had found out that Kyouya was dead, and unconsciously she tightened her grip on his head, as if trying to keep him near her for a while longer.

Haruhi pulled herself away, gazing down at the man who changed her so much, but who's also changed so much himself. She always knew that Kyouya was deeper than his I'm-a-sneaky-bastard façade, but now it made her wonder whether he really knew the value of his life or not.

"Kyouya," she said, lifting his face to meet his eyes, "do you think your life is worthless?"

He said nothing for a moment, dark grey eyes penetrating her brown ones in wavering contemplation, before he answered, "No. Not anymore."

"Why?"

"Because I have the power to help people," he whispered, closing his eyes. "Because you're here, in front of me, and even if I don't believe that I deserve it, I don't think I could ever put Tamaki, the twins, Mori-senpai, and Hani-senpai in that position again."

"Silly man," Haruhi laughed, quickly wiping away the tears that escaped her eyelids. She stood, feeling slightly uncomfortable for showing Kyouya one of her weaker sides, but somehow ended up in Kyouya's arms.

"Thank you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm sorry."

Haruhi stared after him, mind confused at the tone of his voice. Why is it that whenever she felt some sort of connection with him, he always ended up turning away? What on earth is going through that man's head?

--

**Author's Note**: It's been such a long time, everyone! Maybe half a year? I'm so sorry I haven't updated at all—with my summer internship done and college putting its weight on my shoulders, as well as the unfortunate developments in the manga, I haven't felt the least bit inspired to finish Endless Story. However, after certain events happening with people and stuff, and reading through some of the older reviews by my readers, I felt even more determined to finish this. Personally, I'm so sick this TamakixHaruhixHikaru love triangle (I never liked those two pairings anyway), so I have a good feeling that I will be writing KyouxHaru for a long, long time, even after the manga is over, no matter what pairing ends up the winner because KyouxHaru is the pairing that gives hope to people!

So I would like to thank all of you who have reviewed Endless Story (and any of my other stories) because without you guys, I probably wouldn't have gotten back into writing KyouxHaru. There's hope in the world!  Thank you all very much! –bows-

- "Fujioka-san" The suffix -san is used for those who are not close to you and is unisex.

- "Tachibana" is actually one of Bisco Hatori-sensei's characters. Those of you who read the extra at the end of volume 9 (I think), Tachibana is an actual character who doesn't show up much. We don't know much about him except that he is very kind-hearted and understands Kyouya's nature to a T. I actually enjoyed him so much that I wanted to introduce him in "Endless Story".  
- "Hani-senpai" The suffix -senpai is used for those higher than you. For example, an 8th grader would call an 11th grader "-senpai"  
- "Kyouya-sama" The suffix –sama is used as either "master" or "king" by servants, or those of lower lineage/positions in society

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	12. Anata ga Ita Mori

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** MY SANITY. SERIOUSLY.  
**Dedicated to:** all of my dedicated readers. I'm still getting reviews and favorites on my stories (though I've been MIA for several years, now that I think about it), and I'm just so touched that I'd like to at least attempt to finish this story!  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...so allow this now-graduated writer some leverage!

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twelve:**

_When I try to touch you_

_And I hold out my hand_

_Your voice said_

"_I love you."_

_Even now, after so long,_

_The song which I failed to convey to you_

_Is carried off by the wind_

_And it disappeared far away..._

("Anata ga Ita Mori" by Jyukai)

Kyouya was exhausted. Haruhi had worn him down, asking questions that he had attempted to forget, and it was exhausting. Completely, utterly exhausting, almost bordering irritating, but he felt lighter. He would have never thought that the secret of his attempted suicide would be weighing him down so much, but after having talked to the persistent Haruhi about it, he was exhausted, but, dare he say it, happy.

Their relationship (or rather friendship—not that he was about to complain) was almost where it was right before their courtship. With the exception of their history and his openness, and he was afraid he was going to wake up. He was going to wake up, find himself under twenty-four hour supervision of his friends, discovering for the first time that Haruhi was not there, that she'll never be there, and it was all his fault.

"Kyouya,"

He snapped out of his thoughts and saw Tachibana standing in front of him.

"Tachibana-san," Kyouya didn't mention the man's drop of honorifics. In fact, he preferred it that way, now that he was no longer a part of the Ootori family tree.

"Your father is on the line," Tachibana's eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. Kyouya could feel slightly irritated at not being able to read past them.

"Pardon?"

"Your father is on the line." Tachibana repeated, holding out the phone.

"What does he want?" Kyouya was exhausted. Haruhi was enough, and now his father wanted to have a go at him as well? He wasn't sure he had the mental capabilities to face the icy Ootori Head. "I should have known he was going to find me eventually."

"I don't know, sir."

"Tachibana, please don't call me sir."

"Yes, s-. Yes."

"Tell him to shove it."

The door opened behind Tachibana and Kyouya could see Haruhi poking her head in.

"But, sir, Master Ootori needs to speak with you."

He could see Haruhi's eyes widen, and he chuckled lightly as Haruhi slipped into the room. Most women would see that this was a private moment and leave, but not his Haruhi. His Haruhi was always ready to defend someone she cared about. His heart stopped for a moment. Did this mean she still cared about him?

"Let me take that call, Tachibana-san," Haruhi said cheerfully, her hand reaching out for the phone. Tachibana jumped and without thinking, handed Haruhi the phone. Kyouya could feel his jaw slacken. He wasn't sure this was a very good idea either.

"Hello? Ootori-san?" her voice was cheerful. There was no hint of the past three years in her voice. "Yes, this is Fujioka Haruhi. Yes, it's been a very long time. How are you?" She paused, eyes intent on the wall to his left, as if she could see his father speaking to her. "Why, I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about. A merger? Between your company and Kyouya's?" Kyouya's ears perked up, his mind started whirling, and then he proceeded to feel a deep pit form at the bottom of his stomach. "I don't think that's a good idea, Ootori-san. You see, I quite like the Kyouya I have now, and this merger would take this Kyouya away from me, and I'd rather not have that." Haruhi paused again, and then Kyouya could see her eyes darken, and her eyes narrow. "Ootori-san, please do not trifle with me, and I implore that you do not trifle with Kyouya."

"Haruhi," he reached his hand out, but she waved it away.

"Of course, Ootori-san, but has it ever occurred to you that what he's doing now is what he's meant to be doing his entire life? The only thing that had been in the way of his potential is you and your corporation. If you wish to see your corporation's butt saved, I suggest you leave Kyouya alone. And now I have nothing further to say, so good day." She hung up and tossed the phone back to Tachibana. "And you," she hissed at Kyouya, "better do your best and prove that old, bitter, self-important man wrong, or so help me, I'll do something about it!" She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

He raced after her, not quite sure what he wanted to say to her once he caught up, but couldn't think of anything as he wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her into his chest. He felt Haruhi freeze, relax, bury her face into his chest and then begin to cry.

"What's wrong, Haruhi?" he asked her as he held her.

"Your father is so infuriating!" she said after a moment's silence. "And to think I almost wanted to be a part of that family!"

Kyouya couldn't help himself, so he smiled. He smiled down at this woman who could stand up for him, believe in him, and curse out his father, but still manage to make him the happiest man alive. He lifted her face up to his and whispered, "Did you mean that?"

"Mean what?" she sniffled, nose a bit red.

"That you wanted to be a part of my family."

"That—that was a long time ago," she blushed.

"And now?" He couldn't help himself. He wanted to know. Even if that answer wasn't one that he wanted to hear, he wanted to know.

"Well, now I don't want to be a part of that family," she huffed, eyes angry at the thought of—what he hoped was—his father. Her eyes softened as she said, "But..."

"But?"

"But I don't know about this black sheep," she smiled as she stuck a finger into his chest. "I'm starting to find that I'm rather attached to it."

Kyouya laughed, bringing her closer into his body. He wanted her to say those words again and again, even if she didn't mean it.

"Kyouya," Haruhi's voice was serious. "I need you to do something."

"What is it?"

"It's not for me, but for you. I need you to do something for you."

Kyouya was silent.

"I need you to beat your father at his own game. He's ruined too much of you—and you've ruined too much of you. Now I want you to be better than that."

"Haruhi," he started but she shook her head.

"Promise?"

"Haruhi, I love you." Kyouya winced as the words came out of his mouth and into his ears. He was supposed to be here for his brother. Not for himself. He could feel the world reeling beneath his feet, or perhaps he was the one reeling?

"I love you too, you know," Haruhi murmured into his ear. "Always have, always will."

"But I don't deserve it."

"Silly," Haruhi smiled as she brought his face down closer to hers. "Everyone deserves that."

He felt hers lips on his, and he closed his eyes, unaware of the tears that escaped his eyelids.

**Author's Note:** Hi . It's been years since I've been on here. It was by the fates that I had been browsing Deviant Art, ran into a fabulous LeonxAda fanfic and came back to . (That story is called "Love Song to a Stranger" by Ellusive Elegy. Please give this author some love! And if you're interested in reading a really good Resident Evil story, check it out here: s/6293835/23/Love-Song-To-A-Stranger)

You all know what those honorifics are after reading the previous chapters, so I won't be posting those anymore. If there's any big note, I will note them here.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	13. Starlight

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** MY SANITY. SERIOUSLY.  
**Dedicated to:** you, the reader. :)  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness and just general suckage. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...so I did my part. I only take credit for the fluff. WHICH IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PART ANYWAY.

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Thirteen:**

_My life _

_You electrify my life _

_Let's conspire to re-ignite _

_All the souls that would die just to feel alive_

_I'll never let you go _

_If you promise not to fade away, never fade away…__  
_("Starlight" by Muse)

Haruhi awoke, feeling more tired than she was before she went to bed. It's been a while since she's had a proper eight hours of sleep, and now eight hours was too much for her body to take. She let out a sigh, letting her eyes close, and turned, right onto a warm body next to hers. Warm arms enclosed around her and she smiled, nuzzling the chest she turned onto. How long has it been since she's been embraced?

"Good morning," Kyouya's voice brought her back to reality.

"Good morning," she yawned, wrapping her left arm around his torso and pulling herself closer to him. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Tried. I probably managed a few hours. Ended up just drifting in and out of consciousness."

His inability to sleep was starting to worry her. She had suggested some nights ago that he saw a specialist about it, but he had refused. Don't worry, he told her, it'll pass.

When they announced to their friends that they had decided to start seeing each other again, they met with a round of "it's about time!"s, and Hikaru's obvious distaste. However, Haruhi pulled him aside, and spoke with him, after which Kyouya took him aside as well. Haruhi watched as Hikaru gave Kyouya a proper punch in the face, and then stalked away. Hikaru returned later drunk, threatening Kyouya, but he now met them with a somber smile (and Kyouya with warning glares.) When asked whether or not it hurt, Kyouya had replied that he had been waiting for Hikaru's wrath for several years, and had not been disappointed.

At this point, Haruhi was surprised at herself – themselves, really – how easily they returned to their normal routines. They were together again, together and better. Kyouya was more open with her, and in return, she was less respectful of his moody silences and pestered him more regarding his feelings. They were careful, however, to keep their relationship a secret from the public, as Kyouya requested, to keep Jason Hunt from gaining the upper hand.

And thinking of Jason, Haruhi bristled. She wasn't aware of Jason's motives, and she didn't need to know. All she knew was that Ayano-san had to win so she could start her life over, and to have Life prove to her that justice still prevails, regardless of the lawyer's skills. Kyouya, being the stealthy man he is, had made sure that all aspects of communication, of records, of wiring, coffeemaking, was supervised.

Jeanne was fired on the spot the day after Haruhi spotted Jason and Jeanne cozying it up (rather inappropriately) in front of a grocery store. Haruhi had marched right in, and kindly asked Jeanne to leave. _Took you long enough,_ Jeanne had said, red lips curving into what Haruhi thought was a Cheshire cat smile,_ I'm sick of working for you anyway. You made it all too easy for Jason to get the files._

"Haruhi, are you thinking about Hunt and his lover?" Kyouya's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"How did you know?"

"Because you just tore a hole in your sheet." Kyouya pointed at the two holes next to him.

Haruhi sighed, loosening her fingers. Kyouya used his free hand and held her hand in his.

"It's not your fault, Haruhi."

"I know."

"No, you don't," Kyouya squeezed her hand. "You couldn't have known Hunt was an idiot, and that Jeanne was in on it."

"How did you know?"

"Businessman's intuition," Kyouya answered. Haruhi laughed. "Now don't laugh—I'm serious."

"How exactly does that work?"

"First impressions. Not how they act, but unconscious mannerisms. How they talk, how they sit, stand, deal with idle hands. Something about Hunt didn't sit well with me, so I did a little research. I didn't think I'd run into a bit of his dark past, but Hikaru actually managed to get that deep into his personal records."

"What did you find out?" Haruhi sat up.

"He does this professionally. He establishes a business, lets it become somewhat reputable, finds someone to "help" start same business, ruins it, steals the money, and runs off somewhere else to do the same thing. Fortunately for you, Haruhi, he had his eyes on more than just the money." Kyouya paused, running his hand down her side to her hip, "And unfortunately for you, he met me, which is why he took up Ayano's husband's case."

"But Jeanne..."

"Jeanne was a precaution. Hunt's a smart man—shrewd and calculating. He had all his bases covered with back-ups and back-ups for the back-ups. He just never anticipated me."

"True, but Jeanne's stolen all those records from me. That can't be a good sign."

"Oh, don't worry," Haruhi was fond of the smirk that appeared on his face. "I have that taken care of."

She gave him a strange look, and he continued to explain, his thumb drawing circles on her skin.

"The woman's smart, but she didn't think we'd have the technological capabilities of hacking into her database main-frame and rerouting all original files to your computer, and replacing those files with empty junk files. I did request for one particular file to contain a deadly computer virus, but other than that, the others were harmless."

Haruhi had to chuckle. Trust Kyouya to find every way to break down any wall that came in his path. "You couldn't have possibly done this on your own."

"Of course not. Actually, all of us had a hand in it. Hikaru does the information digging—which includes hacking into the government's secret files. That's how we found Hunt's background information. Kaoru does the programming for any rerouting, rewriting of programs, even creating computer viruses. Hani-sempai got a hold of all blueprints—even the ones for Hunt's office, who had requested the government withhold that information. Mori-sempai created escape routes and security measures; and Tamaki provided the manpower to man the buildings." Kyouya had his eyes closed, and Haruhi couldn't help but admire the way the early sunlight peeked in through the windows to touch his skin. "We all wanted to protect you."

Her heart skipped a beat, hearing those words. He's never really said anything to her like that during their previous relationship. It was always implied, never verbally confirmed.

"I don't need protecting, you know," she teased.

"I know," Kyouya's eyes opened and Haruhi leaned down over his face to stare into them. "I know," his voice was softer now and he reached up to touch her face. "But it was all I could do at the time."

Haruhi laughed and bent down to kiss him, "You lovely, lovely man."

"Don't thank me yet," Kyouya pulled her back down into his arms. "You haven't won the case against Hunt."

"You don't have to worry about that," Haruhi smiled. "I've got that part covered."

"Mind sharing?"

Haruhi was surprised that Kyouya didn't pretend that he knew what she had planned. Back in Japan, he had all of the bases covered. Covered once, twice, and covered again so that he didn't miss one little piece of information or possibility. He could find any hole, any discrepancy, and he wouldn't need to be informed at all. He was the informer, not the one being informed.

But that's what she loves about him. This being, this seemingly cold and undefeatable being, that was so surprising to her now, a stranger almost, but familiar; he was so familiar, despite breaking down that Shadow King mask. He was always so good at hiding, and now he was willing to let her in and let her take him in.

"Hunt's the person who has every aspect down. I've seen him at work." Kyouya had begun drawing wider circles on her hip, pressing into the bone gently. "He works at all angles, and he targets the court where they like. Justice. He sees everything as justice. He can justify crimes. He works murderers and rapists and can make them sound like human beings committing justifiable crimes. I just wish I knew earlier." She let out a sigh, placing a kiss at Kyouya's collarbone. "He's ruthless. And he always thinks he's right. There's no one in the world that can convince him otherwise."

"I'm surprised you knew this about him and ended up working with him."

"Don't be," she sighed, pulling away from him and settling on her back, eyes intent on the ceiling. "I was desperate. I was pulled in by his ability to convince anyone that wrong could be right. If he could do that, I could do just as well convincing that right is right, and that that could never change."

She closed her eyes, willing herself to swallow even though her throat felt dry. She wasn't proud of her association with Jason Hunt. In fact, she was starting to hate herself for it. It went against her morals, her beliefs, and how was she going to save someone if she couldn't save herself?

"Haruhi,"

She opened her eyes to find Kyouya's lovely onyx eyes hovering above hers.

"Yes?"

"It's not your fault, you know," he smiled at her, eyes sparkling in a way she never saw before.

She knew that Kyouya was different now, but he still made her feel the same. Equal, beautiful, and above all else, loved.

Her eyes began to water, but she blinked them away, "I know."

"No you don't," Kyouya chuckled lightly as he leaned down to kiss her lightly. "It's not your fault."

Haruhi wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tightly to her. Kyouya settled into her arms and kissed her hair as she silently allowed her tears to fall. He understood that she needed to cry, so he said nothing and held her in turn until she was finished.

**Author's Note:** The court case with Jason Hunt will be coming soon! What a jerk, right? Making Haruhi cry like that. Kyouya will make sure Hunt pays for it ;)

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	14. Try

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** T – a bit more for the older audience – heh heh~  
**Written for:** all of those reviewers who asked for more. I wouldn't be back here without you!  
**Dedicated to:** those of us who are waiting for our own little perfect romances. I hope one day you'll find the Kyouya to your Haruhi! (Or the Haruhi to your Kyouya—whichever you prefer.)  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development. And again, not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there. If there is anyone who would like to BETA these, please send me a PM and we'll discuss the details! :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...so the fluffballs you find in here? THOSE belong to me. I'm not getting paid to create them though, so I'm in the clear. :)

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Fourteen:**

_Funny how the heart can be deceiving_

_More than just a couple times_

_Why do we fall in love so easy?_

_Even when it's not right_

_Where is desire, there is gonna be a flame_

_Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned_

_But just because it burns, doesn't mean you're gonna die_

_You gotta get up and try, and try, and try...__  
_("Try" by P!NK)

Kyouya was up at four the day of the court case. He hadn't planned on it, but when he became vaguely aware of the empty space beside him, he was awake and alert. He knew that Haruhi was having a hard time sleeping, but he didn't realize that it was bad enough that she had to leave the warmth and comfort of a bed. But he wasn't worried. After they settled into a routine, Haruhi had always ended up back in front of her easel when she was feeling unsettled.

He slipped into a T-shirt and made his way out into her living room. Just as he thought, she was seated outside in her lavender robe, hands busy with colors. He stood at the darkened doorway, watching her as she continued painting the beautiful twilight landscape. Lights dotted the dark violet horizon, the moon disappearing overhead, casting down gentle light over the darkened world. It was a beautiful painting, and he felt very content watching her paint.

Over the course of the years they were separated, he never once forgot Haruhi. It was torture—self-inflicted, completely—but he couldn't live a day not thinking about her. Before her, life was so lifeless, emotionless. Robotic. That's what he was. Robotic. When Tamaki entered his life, playing the piano like he invented it, color was beginning to permeate his world. A splash of blue, a whiff of red. But still, he felt that whilst the world around him was getting color, he was left in the dark, bound by circuits and wires and symbolic equational inputs that made no sense. He was only acting like he understood human emotion.

When Haruhi clumsily waltzed into their room, breaking a Rune vase, he knew that Haruhi was a girl. He knew, and his stomach churned at the thought of anyone else finding out her secret. Had it really started that early? His feelings for her? He hadn't known her, but he found her stuttering and incoherency in the music room that day adorable. And once she pulled herself together, with the help of the Hitachiin brothers, she became a concrete part of the club and in his life. For the first time, he felt as if he could break out of all of the wires and circuits and inputs.

"Come sit," her voice was quiet. Her right hand, holding the paintbrush tipped in white paint, patted the seat next to hers. "You didn't have to stand there for so long."

"I have a better view from back here," he laughed, but he joined her anyway. He placed a kiss at her cheek before seating himself next to her, enjoying the silence and art. "Are you all right?"

Haruhi let out a laugh, and then a sigh, "I'm not sure."

"Nervous?" he placed an arm around her waist.

"A little," she admitted as she dotted her canvas with white. "But also strangely calm."

"The calm before the storm?" he teased her. She laughed and turned to him, eyes dark.

"You could say that."

"You have nothing to worry about. You have all of us to support you."

"I know," Haruhi sighed as she laid down her paintbrush. "This case is just starting to feel personal, that's all."

Kyouya smiled at her, pulling her in by her shoulders and planting a kiss at her temple. He knew her worries and her concern for Ayano. And in a way, he believed that Haruhi always made her cases personal—how else would she be so passionate about helping someone with their problems?

"Do you think that there's a possibility you're the reason Ayano-san might lose?" Kyouya was gentle as he pulled her into his arms. He hooked his arms beneath her knees and settled her in his lap, thin legs on both sides of his body, straddling him. He gave her a light kiss at her collarbone as he slipped his arms around her waist.

"There's no doubt that we would win if Jason hadn't stepped in," Haruhi began as she slipped her arms around his neck, breathing lightly into his dark hair. "But I know how he works—I just don't know if I'm good enough to protect her from him."

Kyouya tightened his arms around her as he heard her voice crack. He's never seen Haruhi so vulnerable, to feel vulnerable with her. He used to simply guess her emotions and try to sympathize, never truly understanding what it is she was trying to explain to him, but now it was different. Her every emotion was his, and he was battling these emotions to comfort her. He knew that this case was special, that it would take everything from Haruhi if Hunt came out the victor.

He should have been worried, at this point, about his brother and the case that Haruhi had, at the beginning, very hesitantly took on, but he couldn't. He couldn't worry about his brother when the person who is supposed to be protecting his brother isn't being protected. This woman was the one person that he has unconditionally loved his entire life. How could he forsake her now?

"Haruhi," he murmured, raising his head to gaze at her crestfallen face. He lifted his hand to brush away those long bangs, and he guided her lips down to his. "You, above all others, know your abilities. Do not allow a scumbag like Hunt to convince you otherwise."

Haruhi let out a short laugh and leaned down to kiss him again, this time prolonging the kiss so that they both emerged from it breathless.

"Haruhi," he cleared his throat. He realized that the position that they were in, whilst initiated as one of comfort, had become one of discomfort. Mainly for him.

She giggled after the kiss, face brightened by her smile. But the smile slowly faded and her eyes darkened and transformed the cute face into a serious one, one that made her look like a woman, and it made his mouth dry.

"Kyouya," she murmured, pressing a teasing, but firm, kiss on his lips. He could feel her fingertips at the nape of his neck, and he let out a slow, controlled breath. "Can you do something for me?"

At this point, Kyouya would do anything for her; not just because he loved her, but also because she was driving him insane. His arms were taut with the contradiction between desire and self-control. His eyes were darkening into a stormy grey, and he was fighting it. Dear lord was he fighting it.

"What, Haruhi?" He was surprised his voice came out smoothly.

She stood, silent, took him by the hand, and led him inside the apartment and into her bedroom. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, he knew that there was no one else in the world he could possibly love more than he loved Haruhi.

**Author's Note:** OHOHOHOHO~ So that was a bit of an (in?)appropriate cliffhanger. No lemons to make lemonade with, I'm afraid. Use your own imaginations ;)

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	15. Skyfall

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** back to PG. Actually, let's bump it up to PG-13 for some not-so-nice language.  
**Written for:** the sake of writing.  
**Dedicated to:** reviewers. You are seriously a writer's blessing. Post a review when you can for your favorite writers—it makes us happy!  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development. Read at your own risk? :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...and I don't own the lyrics to the awesome songs I listen to whilst writing these chapters. They're inspiration, and I like sharing them with readers! In short, I OWN NOTHING. T_T

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Fifteen:**

_At the skyfall_

_When it crumbles_

_We will stand tall_

_And face it all together_

_At skyfall_

_Skyfall is where we start_

_A thousand miles and poles apart_

_Where worlds collide and days are dark...__  
_("Skyfall" by Adele)

Haruhi awoke as her alarm played a breezy 90's song, her limbs lost among sheets and Kyouya's limbs. She smiled as she kissed him, untangling herself from the mess. Throwing back her hair, she cracked her neck and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

The case was to be held in the afternoon. She had plenty of time to look over her notes, her arguments, and conduct a brief meeting with Ayano.

She stepped into the warm shower, mind spinning with arguments, and more arguments, and counter-arguments. She could only vaguely feel the lukewarm water brush over her skin, attempting to soothe away her frustrations. Kyouya was right last night, how she was afraid that despite all evidence, all logic, Hunt was going to take everything from Ayano. She was also vaguely aware of what this could do to her self-confidence as a lawyer.

That latter worry, however, was on the backburner.

When she started wanting to be a lawyer, shortly after her mother's death, she thought that justice always prevailed. There was no question about it. Justice was justice and all those who went against it are defeated. It was the fair thing. It was like being Sailor Moon—fighting evil by moonlight, but in a less magical way, and much more practical. However, as she delved deeper into this world of complications and word play and loopholes, she began to realize that human logic wasn't as clean cut. Evidence can be used both ways, and whichever logic works out the best won. The best argued cases won. Even if justice wasn't served.

What will she do if she couldn't argue against Jason Hunt?

Haruhi squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the increasingly hot water hit her in the face.

"Hey," Kyouya's voice snapped her out of her dark cloud. He entered the shower—small as it was—and closed the door behind him. He pulled her into his chest and cradled her. "Why are you thinking so much in the morning?"

Haruhi couldn't answer him. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling his warm and soft flesh under her fingertips. He was like her medicine. Her reality. Her ability to push nonsensical thoughts out of her mind and focus what was important, which was Ayano. Nothing else should deter her from doing her best. She will accept everything that comes their way, and there was no way in hell Jason Hunt was going to be the victor. Not this time.

"You think too much," Kyouya murmured as he ran a hand through her hair. He reached past her to the shampoo rack behind her and began to lather shampoo into her hair. "Just do you what you can. Ayano-san is lucky to have you fight for her."

Haruhi smiled—what an irritatingly good man. He always knew what to say to make things seem less stressful than they seemed. She lifted her face and kissed him gently. Her head settled back onto his chest as his hands continued to wash her hair. His fingers were firm but gentle, applying pressure where he knew she had migraines.

When he came to her, asking her to help his brother, she thought that he had been lying. She did do some searching and found that Ootori Akito really had been in a pinch. Asakura Reiko—heiress to the Asakura Corporation that specialized in pharmaceuticals—was notorious for swindling money and selling high-profit drugs on the Japanese Black Market. The only problem was that Akito was unwilling to risk his pride and his family's name over this issue. Or perhaps there was something more?

Haruhi couldn't understand Akito's stance on the situation. He wanted help, yes, but he would rather not have to deal with the situation with law enforcements. What would people say when they find out that the second Ootori son ended up marrying into a drug dealing business?

She was stumped as well. The law was on his side—that was for certain—but when it came to maintaining pride and the family name, which was on an entirely different level, one that Haruhi didn't have a hand in. That would be Akito's decision to make.

Kyouya wanted her to go ahead and, under his name, file a lawsuit against the Asukara family for deceiving the Ootori family (marriage under false pretenses), but a marriage was a completely different case. She remembered asking Kyouya if Akito had wanted a divorce, but Kyouya said nothing, and somehow, Haruhi knew that Akito wanted to stay with Reiko. Knowing this, Haruhi couldn't continue with the lawsuit; not without Akito's permission.

"Haruhi," Kyouya murmured. Haruhi sighed in response. "Are you still thinking about Hunt?"

"A little," she admitted, "but I've moved towards Akito-san's problem."

He gave a small chuckle, "You think too much."

Kyouya had finished helping Haruhi with breakfast when the doorbell rang. He kissed her on the cheek and went to open the door to find Hani and Mori there.

"Good morning, Mori-senpai, Hani-senpai," he moved out of the way to let them in. "We're just sitting down to breakfast. Would you like to join us?"

Hani's eyes sparkled at the mention of breakfast, but Kyouya was also sure that Hani was pleased that he and Haruhi were back together. Mori placed a hand at his shoulder as he replied, "We'd love to. Thanks."

"Good morning, Haru-chan!" Hani had skipped to the kitchen ahead. "What are you making?"

"Kyouya," Mori stopped him from joining the two. "We've got a problem."

Kyouya's heart stilled for a moment, "What is it?"

"We cannot find Ayano-san."

"Shit," Kyouya muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His eyes trailed in the direction of Haruhi and Hani's laughter. "Where are Tamaki and the twins?"

"They're out searching for her."

"She was safe in my office," Kyouya argued.

"It was broken in to," Mori's voice was apologetic. "One of your guards was found unconscious outside of her room, and Tachibana-san is nowhere to be found. We're assuming that he's been taken with Ayano as well."

"Without Ayano present at the hearing, there will be a default," Kyouya clenched his fist, feeling his heart race. "If we're lucky, we could postpone the hearing, but if they're as corrupt as we think they are, we might have a problem."

Mori nodded, and began to say something else before they were interrupted by Haruhi, "What are you two standing at the door for? Come have breakfast. We'll head over to Kyouya's office together."

"Will you tell her or shall I?" Mori asked him as they followed her to the kitchen where Hani was seated at one of the chairs, watching Haruhi decorate the pancakes with whipped cream flowers.

"I will," Kyouya sighed, "but not now. Make sure she eats first. Knowing her, she'd rush out of here without breakfast and look for Ayano-san. She hasn't been sleeping well lately. And it's not my fault!"—Kyouya quickly said at Mori's small, knowing smile—"though I'm not entirely out of the equation either."

Mori gave a chuckle, but said nothing else as they joined the two in the kitchen.

Kyouya was silent throughout most of the meal, mind whirling with possibilities and plans. He knew that Tamaki and the twins were doing their best to secure Jason Hunt and any guilty perpetrators. But the first part was telling Haruhi, and he didn't know if he could do that just yet.

Haruhi was smiling and eating pancakes. He smiled as he watched her. Just a little longer...

"Kyouya, what's wrong? Are you not hungry?"

Now or never. He placed down his fork, "Haruhi, there's been a problem."

"What is it?"

He hated having to look at those deep eyes and tell her something she didn't want to hear. He's done that enough times.

"Ayano's been kidnapped."

She was silent.

"We're trying to track her down as we speak," Hani said in a voice that was not his normal lolita tone. His face darkened over. "We'll find her, Haru-chan."

"What happened?"

"It seems like Kyouya's office was broken in to. We've got the police force dusting for fingerprints and everything."

"Have they confirmed the fingerprints yet?"

"No," Mori replied.

"For now," he heard himself saying, "we can safely assume that she's only being held somewhere until after the hearing today."

_If that asshole knows what's good for him,_ Kyouya clenched his teeth.

Haruhi was quiet for a moment until she stood up abruptly, slammed her hands against the table, and growled, "That fucking asshole."

Kyouya caught the jar of honey that toppled off the table. He's never seen her this livid before. As horrible as the entire situation was, he was slightly impressed. He knew that Haruhi could take care of herself, but he had never been aware of her language motivated by anger.

"Let's calm down, Haru-chan," Hani's lolita tone was back. "Let's finish breakfast and figure out the situation, okay?"

Haruhi seated herself back onto her seat with such violence that Kyouya had to reach out again to catch a wayward butter knife, but she didn't argue. She started to cut her pancakes and shovel them into her mouth.

"The sooner we finish, the sooner we leave," she murmured.

They all ate in heated, anxious silence. Kyouya was finished first, and he had taken it upon himself to start the dishes. By the time they were all ready, the dishes would be finished, and Haruhi would have one less thing occupy her mind.

As he was finishing up with the dishes, Haruhi had unceremoniously stomp-rushed into her bedroom, leaving Mori and Hani to chuckle at her. Haruhi's always been cute, Kyouya decided, but there was more to that when another person was involved. It was no wonder she won so many cases. She cared about her clients to such an extent, that losing was not an option. It was never an option and never will be. This was no different. If anything, Hunt's moves were making Haruhi even more determined to, as the Americans would say it, "kick some ass."

"Haru," he knocked on the door gently. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," her voice was muffled. "Did you bring your suit over last night? Where did you put it?"

Kyouya slipped into her bedroom, "It's in your closet." He dressed accordingly, watching Haruhi rush about the room, checking to see if she had everything. A watch one moment, an earring another. "Haru," he stopped her with a single arm as he was tying his tie. "Stop."

"I know, I know," Haruhi relaxed into his arms, burying her face in a free hand. The other was holding a stocking. "I think too much. I just can't imagine what Ayano-san is going through right now."

"I know," Kyouya kissed her lightly, releasing her and returning to tie his tie. "It's all right. You have us."

Haruhi laughed, as she turned her attention onto him. She pried his fingers from the tie and began to tie it herself, "And I'm eternally grateful."

Kyouya kissed her, tasting the last remnants of whipped cream.

"Now let's go find Hunt," Kyouya breathed into her hair as he held her close.

"Hunt for Hunt?" Haruhi laughed, eyes intent on his.

"Yes," he said as they joined Hani and Mori outside the apartment door. "And I already have various ways to make him pay."

Haruhi laughed, "You think too much."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So there are some readers of mine who are guests (don't have accounts) who have reviewed my story. Here are my responses to some of them:

To _Tanaka's Girl_: Thanks for reading and reviewing—and for recognizing my username! I didn't expect any of my earlier fans to read this story, since it's been a couple of years, but that really put a smile on my face! And in response to your question: yes, I still listen to Gackt, though not as much as I used to. If he's had anything new come out the last few years, I'm unaware though! I'll catch up eventually. I love his music.

Feedback is really appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated. Mean flames are retaliated with my evil dust kitties and their water furballs...so don't try them. You'll regret it. Really.

Thank you for reading!


	16. Diamonds

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG13 for language.  
**Written for:** boredom. I am at the Hong Kong Airport waiting for my flight to Bangkok, and it is not yet time for boarding.  
**Dedicated to: **all of my fellow NaNoWriMo writers! Good luck!  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development. But that's what makes me all giggly and happy, so why ever not?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...so leave this poor writer alone. She's harmless. Really! (Ignore her zombiefied kitties. They're harmless. Really.)

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Sixteen:**

_You're a shooting star I see_

_A vision of ecstasy_

_When you hold me, I'm alive_

_We're like diamonds in the sky_

_At first sight I felt the energy of sun rays_

_I saw the life inside your eyes_

_So shine bright, tonight you and I_

_We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky_

_Eye to eye, so alive_

_We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky__  
_("Diamonds" by Rihanna – Kim Viera Cover)

The door had been kicked open, hinges leaving behind splintered wood. The door had slid to the opposite wall. There was sign of struggle—an overturned desk, books from the bookcase in the left corner of the room in disarray on the floor. Her imagination was getting the better of her.

She was seething, fists clenched so tightly that she could barely feel her nails digging into her skin anymore. But she managed to keep a distanced smile on her face as she stood up and leaned over his desk.

Her right fist connected with his jaw and had him hurling towards the ground.

"JESUS, WOMAN!"

"Haru-chan!" Hani's voice shook her out of her thoughts.

"Thinking about punching Hunt in the face?" Kyouya asked her as they walked into the office of Hunts and Associates.

"How'd you guess?" Haruhi laughed as she caught the tensed stares of Hunt's associates.

"I was thinking the same," Kyouya murmured.

"But we can't," Haruhi sighed. "That would discredit us completely."

"I'll do it!" Hani said, his face sparkling at the opportunity.

"Mitsukuni," one word from Mori and they all placed the idea out of their minds...temporarily.

"Ah, Ms. Fujioka," one of Jason's higher associates gave her a leering smile. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I'd like to speak with Hunt, if you don't mind grabbing him for me for a second?" Haruhi did her best to sound amiable.

"Don't you have a case against him today?" the associate smirked. "Good luck with that."

"You know, I never liked you," Haruhi smiled. "If you won't grab Jason, I'll just find him myself."

Haruhi had insisted that she come alone, but Kyouya insisted right back that it would be safer if he came along. Since Kyouya was coming along, Mori and Hani offered to do so as well. Mori, however, had his attention separated between being in Hunt's office and receiving updates from the police force, whilst Hani was memorizing the layout of Hunt's offices.

"Fingerprints confirmed: Hanazawa Tsumi," Mori murmured.

The associate, flustered by Haruhi's words, went to find Hunt, and Haruhi sat herself in a chair, ignoring the strange looks they were given. It wasn't until Hunt entered the room, straightening his hair and tie, that all of his employees shuffled quickly into the conference room, peeking in through the glass windows.

"Haruhi," Hunt's easygoing smirk and false, stiff tone of voice sickened her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you in my office before our court case?"

"Let me be clear, Hunt," Haruhi gestured for him to sit. He did. "I want my client back."

"Your client?" Jason Hunt looked genuinely surprised. "Have you lost her?"

"You—," Kyouya started but silenced himself when Haruhi stood.

"Do you mean to tell me that you had nothing to do with her kidnapping?"

"Why are you so sure that she's been kidnapped?" Jason asked her, leaning back in his chair, hand at his brow. "Surely she just went out for a walk."

"Yes, Jason," Haruhi's voice was tinted with sarcasm. "She decided to take out the guard at his post, and then take the other guard outside for a walk. But that wasn't enough. She decided, what the hell, why don't I just throw everything around on the floor, close the door and then kick it in, and make it seem like I've been kidnapped when I'm only going out for a walk? Surely that's how people do things here. And surely, a five foot, slim woman can leave a footprint mark size 13 in men's sizes. _Surely_."

Jason Hunt was quiet, eyes taking in Haruhi's face. She was sure there was no emotion there, but his eyes traveling over her made her feel ill. If he continued what he was doing, she was sure that she was going to give him a nice look of her pancakes from earlier this morning.

"Just return her, Hunt, and we won't have a problem."

"Is that a threat?" he looked amused. "Are you _threatening _me, Ms. Fujioka?"

"No," she smiled at him. "I'm just giving you a realistic look at the situation."

"I know that you are dying to pin her disappearance on me, Haruhi," Jason sighed. "And I know you are dying to mark me out as the bad guy, but have you ever thought that these Japanese bastards are the ones setting you up?"

Haruhi could feel the atmosphere change behind her where her friends were concerned, but they stayed quiet.

"Haruhi," Jason stood, and Haruhi had the urge to ready herself in a kungfu stance. "Let me tell you something. Those men behind you? They aren't your friends. They're just trying to set up this entire ordeal to manipulate your future and your success. They're the ones who took Ayano."

Haruhi didn't even know what to think, let alone retort. She never considered the possibility that her friends would do that to her, but that wasn't what rendered her speechless. How could Jason Hunt aim so low, and come up with something so disgusting and unbelievable?

"You've gone quiet, Haruhi," Haruhi was aware that Jason was using a tactic to distract her from rational thought through conversation. "Are you saying you've never considered the fact that this asshole of a man, who lied and cheated his way through everything for the benefit of an insignificant profit, could manipulate you the same way he manipulated you in Japan?"

"Wow," Kyouya's voice broke through her thoughts. She turned to find him seated in a seat to her left. He clapped his hand unenthusiastically. "Is this the infamous Jason Hunt who is, supposedly, the justice fighter he claims to be?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason's words were said through bit teeth.

"I mean," Kyouya stood, looking bored, "that you would resort to that sort of trickery to ruin other lawyers. Just weak words, meaning nothing, and then you expect one of California's new best lawyers to fall for it? You wouldn't even need to prepare for the court case in that case. Why not just destroy her from within and then reap the profits from weakness and their client's despair?" Kyouya's voice changed into something darker. "Do you get off on that? Do you get off knowing that you had the power to help them, but you chose to take everything from them instead?"

"And there you are," Hunt sneered, "taking advantage of Haruhi just as I suspected and warned her about. You think you could just waltz into her life again, play the innocent little ex-boyfriend who just wants to help her, and then expect her to forgive you and think of you as the same person again? Are you stupid? Are you saying _Haruhi_ is that stupid?"

"For your information," Haruhi began, "I don't think Kyouya is the same person as he was years ago."

"Stay out of this, Haruhi," Jason pushed past her, and was glowering down into Kyouya's face. "You better watch yourself, Ootori, or I will find a way to end you."

"Interesting," Kyouya gave him one of the infamous Ootori smirks, "seeing that we're the ones with the upper hand."

"Upper hand? _Upper hand?"_ Jason started to guffaw, slapping his knees the way cartoon characters did. "You think that your big words can scare me into believing that you're the one with the upper hand?"

"I don't need to use words to scare you."

"That's just the ego talkin', bro," Jason pretended to wipe away tears at Kyouya's joke. "You gotta find some way to realize the situation and just accept it."

Haruhi was getting sick of listening to the two of them bicker like little children. She wasn't sure who had the upper hand, and she didn't particularly care. All she wanted was Ayano safe within their vicinities, and she was prepared to do almost anything to ensure her safety. But how would she do that when all they're doing is bickering like some corrupt politicians?

"Where has Hanazawa Tsumi been?"

Jason paused, sending irritated glares Kyouya's way. Kyouya ignored them.

"Under house arrest."

"Is that so?" Haruhi smiled. "Do you mind if we pay him a visit?"

"Before the court case? I'm afraid not. I don't know what sort of psychological stress you'd be putting on him."

"Fine," Haruhi let out a disappointed sigh. "How uncooperative of you, Jason. Who would have thought that Mr. Justice would be unwilling to allow justice be served?"

"I hope you know," Jason said with gritted teeth, "that I'm doing everything I can to protect this innocent man from a crazy wife's psychotic accusations."

"Is that what you tell yourself at night?" Haruhi gave a laugh. "That way you can continue living in a lie and still manage to look at yourself in the mirror?"

Jason slammed his hands onto the table, eyes blazing in white-hot anger. For a split second, Haruhi thought she saw his past laid out before her, and in an instance, it recoiled and slithered back into his chest. He smiled genteelly at them and invited them to sit back down again.

"Please," he insisted. Haruhi complied. Kyouya remained standing. "I assure you that I have no prior knowledge of any of these happenings. If you wish to check on my client, please allow me to escort you myself. However, if I find that you wish to manipulate my client, I will ask you to kindly leave."

"I only ask that you give us five minutes to question him."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Then suppose we get a warrant to search the vicinities?" Haruhi's smile grew. "Then there should be no problem."

Jason's face remained passive and in control, "Five minutes. That's it. But—," his eyes flashed at Kyouya, Mori, and Hani, "they are not invited."

"I do request that one of them come with me," Haruhi smiled. "Precautions, you understand."

"Fair enough."

Haruhi stood to follow Jason, but not before she turned and pressed a gentle hand to Kyouya's chest, "I'm sorry, Kyouya. I'm going to have to ask Mori-senpai to come with me instead."

"Haru," Kyouya's eyes were darkening, and his hand grasped hers.

"Trust me," she pulled away as Mori stood to follow. "I'll see you back at the office later."

Haruhi gazed up at Mori and he offered her a wise smile.

"He'll be fine," Mori murmured.

"I know," Haruhi replied as they entered Haruhi's car to follow Jason's.

Mori patted her on the head as they pealed out of the parking lot, eyes intent on following Jason's blue mustang. Haruhi had no worries regarding Kyouya. Now he was free to do whatever he wanted without being watched by Jason. They were on a tight schedule.

There were five hours left.

**Author's Note:** Just a quick note: November is "NaNoWriMo" – also known as "National Novel Writing Month." I will be partaking in this stressful, month-long activity. My goal is to write 2000 words a day, so there's a huge possibility that I won't be able to update this story until after I've finished my novel for the month.

Please wish me luck. :) And I'll do my best to give you guys a greaaaaaat next chapter the next time I upload!

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. :) (I know, it sounds cute, but trust me, it ain't!)


	17. Echomemory

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG13 for language.  
**Written for:** the sake of finishing this blasted story? :)  
**Dedicated to:** Lauren—you know who you are. Thanks for being a great 'Fremlin', albeit an evil one. I can appreciate evilness. ^_^  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development. People change!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...if I'm getting money from this without either of their permission, you have my permission to shoot me in the face. But I'm not, so you can't. TOO BAD! :)

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Seventeen:**

_The world won't stop turning_

_and we cannot return_

_Tell me where to find our missing memories_

_Sat at the end of forever_

_And time stopped for our_

_echomemory_

_Wisps of lonely voices_

_Our hearts singing in our_

_echomemory__  
_("Echomemory" by The ObsElite)

Haruhi was preparing herself for any, and all, circumstances they'll come upon at the Hanazawa household. Ayano had been staying with a friend of hers, until Kyouya had taken her under his wing. Tsumi was staying at their house, under house arrest that Kyouya had secured for him. Haruhi shook her head as she and Mori sat in silence in her car, still tailing Jason Hunt closely. Kyouya had been a part of this case from almost the beginning. Regardless of what happens, she'll always have him to thank for being at her side when she needed him the most.

He hadn't changed. Well, she corrected herself, he had and yet he hadn't. She'd always known that Kyouya was much more capable of being someone better than his stone-masked self. She had never known how to break him out of that mask. She adored him the way he was, of course, but she had a distinct feeling that she was missing a very important part of his personality. He was a passionate man. He just never, ever chose to voice it, never chose to go forth with his passions and his feelings. To him, they were characteristics of weakness, and he refused to have weakness deteriorate that carefully cultivated coolness of his demeanor.

When Jason turned on a gravel road, Haruhi had the opportunity to see the house in person. She's only seen it through photographs, as Ayano refused to return to the house, even if Haruhi had assured her that she would keep the woman safe. It was recently run-down, possibly during the length of the divorce. It was a small house, but cozy, and Haruhi could see Ayano sewing at the window, or gardening in the sunshine. Unfortunately, the flower garden had been demoted to weed garden, and the white of the house gave an off-color, almost as if the house was ill. Two guards stood outside of the doors, and nodded to Jason as he parked right outside. She parked behind him.

Mori was careful to stay by her side the entire time. They walked through the house to find that everything was in disorder—just as it had been in Ayano's room at Kyouya's offices. Only the atmosphere was different. Whilst Ayano's room was thrown in panicked and frightened disarray, the house radiated anger. Smashed vases, cracked porcelain on the floor, couch cushions ripped apart—Haruhi was starting to feel a dreaded chill running up and down her arms.

"Mori-senpai," she whispered as Jason casually strolled through the house, and up the stairs.

"It's all right, Haruhi," he smiled down at her as he placed a hand on her head. "She'll be all right."

Haruhi's dread increased as they went up the stairs where books were strewed across the steps from the bookcase upstairs. Ayano was too gentle when she said that Tsumi had an anger problem. Hopefully he wasn't too violent with human life when he was angry, even though Haruhi had a discrete feeling that she was being too hopeful in this situation.

"None of your Japanese business," Jason snarled at her. "Only English."

Haruhi gave a sharp nod, almost giving into her urge to roll her eyes at Jason's hostility.

They reached the upstairs and Jason turned down a hallway to the left to knock on the door at the end of the hallway.

"Mr. Hanazawa?" Jason called through the door. "It's Jason Hunt. May I come in?"

There was a shuffling sound and a squeak before the door opened.

Hanazawa Tsumi looked just like a monster out of a Japanese horror film. Long, matted hair covered the better part of his long, gaunt face. His eyes were sunken in, prominent from the circles of black that lined them, and a pungent, acidic smell wafted into the hallway as the door was open wide enough for Jason to step through. Haruhi and Mori followed.

Once Tsumi's eyes fixated on Haruhi's face, he pointed a long, thin finger at her, and Haruhi couldn't help but feel like she was in one of those horror movies right now. Not that she was afraid of those horror movies; she just found them distasteful. But being in a horror movie was a rather different experience than watching it. She could always separate herself when watching a movie like that, but with Ayano missing, the coldness of reality was starting to grip her at the throat and make its way down into her stomach.

"What is she doing here?" Tsumi's voice was high-pitched and hysterical. He was talking to Jason, but his eyes never left Haruhi. Jason was lightly pushing Tsumi back into the room, gesturing the two of them to enter. As the door closed behind them, Mori growled unexpectedly, and Haruhi thought she felt surprise enter her senses, but she couldn't _actually_ feel anything. She had never heard Mori growl like that before, almost like a guard Doberman.

"Mr. Hanazawa," Haruhi started, ignoring the bizarre sensation she was feeling in the pit of her stomach. "We apologize for the intrusion..."

She wasn't given time to finish her apologies and explanation before Tsumi lunged at her, fire blazing in those black eyes, long fingers reaching for her throat. She didn't move. Suddenly, she wasn't afraid of him. She could feel Mori move to protect her, but she held out a hand to stop him. As cliché as it sounded, she saw everything in slow motion. This wasn't the type of slow motion that would happen in some sort of accident, where the victim saw their lives flash before their eyes; this was the type of incident overexaggerated in action movies, where actions were easily predicable. She could see the whites of Tsumi's eyes and she calmly took a large step to the right. Tsumi ended up face first in the door.

"Sorry," Haruhi said to Jason who stood a ways away. He shook his head in acknowledgement.

She returned her attention to Tsumi. "Mr. Hanazawa, we are not here to hurt you."

"You've hurt me enough!" His voice was grating on the ears. She raised an eyebrow at Mori, but he remained as he always was, silent and passive, but ever watchful and aware. "You've torn my wife from me, fed her lies, made her believe that she can survive without me. HAH!" Tsumi began to laugh hysterically. If his voice was grating, his laugh was even more so. He sat down on the bed, still laughing that dark hyena laugh.

Haruhi let her eyes wander the room. It was worse compared to the rest of the house. She assumed that he spent most of his time here. The bathroom door was hanging off its hinges, threatening to fall on the shattered mirror. There was nothing untouched by rage. Dirty clothing strewn about the room, and the windows looked like they were never touched, which would explain the horrible smell. The outfit Tsumi was wearing was wrinkled and stained. Stained with what, she didn't know, but she could only assume that it wasn't pleasant. There were two doors within her immediate vision. A bathroom and, presumably, a closet—a rather large one, considering the size of the room, only the door was closed.

"Mr. Hanazawa," Jason was the first to speak. His voice was low and strangely calming. "Please, have a seat. There seems that there are complications to the case that we must discuss."

"Complications?" Tsumi's eyes were wild. "What complications? You promised me justice!"

"Yes," Jason's soothing voice continued as Haruhi ran her eyes over the room. For a moment, she felt like a police inspector, and gave a mental laugh. Mori's eyes were also assessing the room, and she could only assume that he was doing a much more detailed assessment. "But please understand that a case cannot continue if your wife is missing."

"Missing?" Tsumi sounded confused. Haruhi watched as an ugly grin spread over his features. "Missing..."

"Would you have any idea where she would be, Mr. Hanazawa?" she spoke. Jason flashed a warning glare in her direction, but she ignored him.

"If she's missing," Tsumi's words were deliberately slow. He hadn't heard her, "that means we win."

"Not exactly," Jason cleared his throat. "We reschedule."

"There's no need to reschedule," Tsumi replied.

"They get another shot at court, Mr. Hanazawa; that is the law."

"Work your way around it then."

"I'm here for justice. Working my way around it is not justice."

"Oh, shut up," Tsumi's darkened eyes narrowed at him. "Stop putting up a damn front."

"Mr. Hanazawa,"

"You care less about justice than I do!" Tsumi stood, jabbing a finger in Jason's direction. "Don't think I don't know who you are or what you really do for a living. The reason we're in on this together is because you are dirty enough to get involved with me, and," Tsumi's voice lowered to a level where Haruhi couldn't hear him. Whatever it was that Tsumi said, Jason's cool expression never changed. However, his face turned a blotchy red color, and they began to argue in those hushed voices.

Haruhi didn't care either way about the other two. She nodded to Mori, shifting her eyes towards the bathroom. He gave a single nod and turned towards the other two, careful to shield their view of her. She stepped around the mess into the bathroom to her right. She had the distinct impression that _had_ Jason been in on the kidnapping with Tsumi, he would've called on their way to the house. That would've given Tsumi at least ten to fifteen minutes to either hide Ayano from view or move her to some inconspicuous part of the house. Given Ayano's reactions when it came to her soon-to-be ex-husband, she would have put up a fight. There was a distinctive scent in the bathroom. Despite its rather large size, every inch of the marbled floor was covered in some sort of liquid, possibly from the overturned shampoo and conditioner bottles, as well as others. She assumed there was some sort of large tub on her left, the majority of her view blocked by the lavender shower curtains. There was black liquid dripping all around the sink. Had Tsumi kept the house in order, it would have been a beautiful bathroom, luxurious even. Ignoring the churning in her stomach, Haruhi carefully made her way over to the tub, almost expecting what lay beyond it.

She quickly pushed the shower curtains out of the way to find the tub empty. She let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps watching crime thrillers weren't the best way to pass her time at home. Though it's been months since she's seen any episodes of those subpar T.V. shows, these scenarios were never far from mental reach. Upon closer inspection, there was a familiar waft of some flowery scent in the tub. The fact that it was still present meant that the person wearing it had only recently been moved. She could see scruffs of some sort of footwear upon the white ceramic finishing. A few drops of almost metallic red-brown droplets remained near the drain.

Mentally, Haruhi cursed herself for not being better prepared for this visit. She should have brought some sort of evidence gathering devices. Plastic bags, gloves. Then again, she wasn't a detective or some sort of police-investigator, so she wouldn't have thought to bring those things. Still, they would have been handy.

"Ms. Fujioka?" Jason's voice carried into the bathroom.

Haruhi cursed under her breath as she tugged at the shower curtains to their original place. Jason's head poked into the bathroom.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jason's voice possessed a steely edge to it. It had not been there prior to her snooping.

"Taking a turn in the bathroom," Haruhi said. "Is that a problem? Or would you rather I was present for your little conversation with your client?"

Jason's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing else. She brushed past him to where Tsumi sat on the bed, waiting.

"You have five minutes," Jason said.

"Mr. Hanazawa," Haruhi gave a cool, polite smile. "Can you please tell us where you've been the past twenty-four hours?"

"Here, under house arrest," he drawled. "My jailers can vouch for me."

Haruhi's eyes wandered down to his feet where he had on black boots. Shining black boots. They actually looked fairly new, or at least well-taken care of. Compared to the rest of his appearance, he seemed to have a bit of a shoe fetish.

Haruhi's phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it as her eyes rested on Tsumi's wry gaze. Mori had taken to standing a bit away behind her. His eyes were as inquisitive and calculating as hers. If this hadn't been as serious as it was, she could have sworn she and Mori made a great detective team. A bit like Sherlock, perhaps?

"How do you feel about your wife, Mr. Hanazawa?"

"Excuse me?" he wasn't expecting that question.

"How do you feel about her?" she repeated herself.

"How is any of that your business?" he mumbled, eyes darting to Jason, who had taken his station leaning against the bathroom door. Jason wasn't paying attention.

"I'm helping her," Haruhi stated, no inflection in her voice. "I'd like to know, if you don't mind."

"I love her," there was no emotion in his voice.

"And how much?"

"A lot," he shot back.

"That doesn't exactly tell me the depths of your emotions, Mr. Hanazawa. Can you please give me an example?"

"I'd die for her."

_Cliché,_ she found herself thinking.

"Do you know why she's leaving you?"

"Because some stupid bimbo decided that she had the right to force ideas into her head, making her think she could do better," Tsumi's snarl was deep and ugly. It transformed his already unpleasant face to something almost otherworldly. "She can never do better than me."

"Is that so?" Haruhi offered him a sympathetic smile. "How much do you believe that?"

She didn't wait for Tsumi to answer. He wasn't going to provide one, the way he was glaring at her.

"You know," Haruhi waved a hand as if to wave away the distasteful atmosphere in the room. "I don't take kindly to abusive people." She returned her eyes to Tsumi's. "I'd suggest you free whomever it is you've got hiding in your closet."

Mori, as if reading her mind, was on his way to the closet when she had mentioned her disgust for abusive people. He tried the elegant doorknob and found it stuck. At this moment, Haruhi could see everything clearly: Tsumi scrambling over the bed, Jason pulling a gun from beneath his jacket, Mori forcing the door open with his shoulder. Immediately, a putrid smell entered the room.

As the door swung open, Haruhi was almost glad that Kyouya hadn't come with her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ah, the one problem (out of many) trying to pick up a story to finish after two years of not updating is that there would be a lot of things that I would've changed at the beginning of the series. But since it's too late, I'll have to do my best to finish this story the way it is! :)

Here's a bit of a fun interwebz scavenger hunt: has anyone heard of the song introduced at the beginning of this chapter? If not, please check it out. Maybe you'll get to know this avid KyouxHaru writer a little better from it :)

NaNoWriMo is over. I couldn't finish my novel before the deadline. So I've decided to take a break from it, and continue this fanfic. Hopefully I'll find more motivation to finish that novel soon! Thanks to everyone who have been so encouraging and patient last month! Stay warm, and embrace the time you have with family this time of year!

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other :)


	18. Nemo

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG13 for non-sexual, mature/explicit content.  
**Written for:** the days where I was lost in the dark.  
**Dedicated to: **new readers. HELLO LOVELIES!  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development. And intense emoness. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...unless, of course, they're willing to give them to me. In which case, yessssssss~ -fist pump-

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Eighteen:**

_If I die young, bury me in satin_

_Lay me down on a bed of roses_

_Sink me in the river at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song_

_The sharp knife of a short life, well_

_I've had just enough time__  
_("If I Die Young" by The Band Perry (Sam Tsui Cover))

Kyouya was seated outside of the hospital room, elbows propped up on his thighs, face buried in his hands. Haruhi had forbidden him to enter as she kept Ayano company. When Haruhi hadn't picked up her phone when he called her for the sixth time, he had raced to the Hanazawa house in his car, Hani's eyes hardened with resolve to kick someone in the pants. With Hani's acrobatics, he was sure that someone would be suffering the wrath of their sweet upperclassman. And, luckily for Hani, there was some struggle with the guards outside. Hani was left to take care of them. Kyouya raced up the stairs, three steps at a time to find Ayano huddled in Haruhi's arms and Mori holding an unconscious Jason by the collar.

Haruhi didn't speak as he knelt at her side, dialing 911, explaining the situation. Tamaki and the twins arrived only a bit later after the call as they were returning from one of Tsumi's deteriorating company buildings, where they first thought he'd hide Ayano. They were far more professional then than he'd ever seen them before. They whisked Ayano and Haruhi up into the ambulance that was waiting for them downstairs as he was left in the room with Mori.

Kyouya squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of Tachibana's body strung up from the ceiling, hands missing fingers, eye sockets missing eyes. His heart lurched. He pressed his knuckles into his eyes, almost wishing that Tachibana had stayed behind with his father. How was he ever going to explain this to Tachibana's family? That he had died majestically? That he was a great man for sacrificing himself? But for what? What reasons would be significant enough for a death like that? He held back chokes as his body shuddered, fighting for control over his tears. He took in a few deep breaths as he willed his mind away from Tachibana.

Jason had shot Tsumi during the struggle. Mori had been quick enough to move out of the way of the haphazardly shot bullet, and pressed a nerve at the back of Jason's neck to knock him unconscious. Jeanne crawled out of the closet, wailing into her hands after the twins disappeared downstairs with Haruhi and Ayano. Hani escorted her down after them, carrying Jason over his shoulder.

Ayano had been locked in that closet in Tsumi's fit of rage after Tsumi received Jason's warning call. Jeanne had been locked up much longer, it seemed. It must have been terrifying for her, for both of them, having—most likely—seen Tachibana's sacrifice and then been locked in with his body...

At the thought of Tachibana again, Kyouya now pressed his palms into his eyes, as if pressing them any harder back into his skull would prevent him from shedding any tears. It worked for him before, when he was back in Japan, before he left Haruhi. After he began to lose all sense of his humanity, he cried, but he couldn't remember it. Everything was blank. It hurt to such extremities that he knew tears were falling, but he couldn't _feel_ anything. He grew desperate at his numbness and began to try to awaken his senses. He wasn't one to be passively methodical—if anything, he was passionately methodical. He tried heightening his senses, thinking that once he returned to normal, perhaps everything would be better. It wasn't. He even tried using a variety of drugs, something to get his blood pumping, but after the high, he fell even deeper into that suffocating and deep numbness. He began to hypothesize that perhaps if he couldn't "feel" anything emotionally anymore, he should at least feel something—anything—physically.

It started as an innocent experiment. At the first tinge of pain and the dripping of blood spotting his white bed sheets, he almost felt relieved. He became obsessed with the feeling and found ways to hide his addiction. He wore black, long-sleeved shirts of thick material, even in the summer, so that if the bandages were seeped through, it wouldn't appear to any straying eyes. Feeling pain was better than feeling nothing. The innocent experiment didn't last though, and it became more and more serious, until Tamaki found him handling a gun in his bedroom, hidden in the darkness of night.

Recalling that time, he wondered wearily why he had been so desperate to feel something when the actuality of feeling something was far more painful, far more unbearable than anything physical he'd ever felt before.

Kyouya clenched his fists in front of his face, unable to think anymore. Perhaps that was a blessing. Only, after he realized he wasn't thinking anymore, the thoughts and images forced their way back into his mind's eye and refused to leave.

_What am I going to tell his family?_ Kyouya could feel the weight of his cell phone in his pocket and knew he didn't have the heart to call them. He'd have to deliver the news in person. They deserved that and so much more.

His wife would be furious and devastated and completely and utterly heartbroken. His children would cry and wail and, the oldest—his daughter—would hit Kyouya in the chest until she fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands. He'd met Tachibana's family only about once a year at the staff New Year's parties, but there was never any true conversations with them, and he regretted it. They lost their husband, father, and friend to a stranger, a stranger who couldn't even control himself or save the people he loved. A useless, horrible stranger, who hadn't done anything but take, take, take from them.

He wasn't any better than his father.

At that thought, Kyouya growled at the realization, fingernails biting into his palms. He had been avoiding this, thinking that if he ignored it long enough, things would change and he wouldn't have to confront any of it.

Mori sat next to him, silent as always. When they were back at the house, Mori had placed a hand at his elbow, willing him to leave the room, but Kyouya had refused, legs taking him over to the closet. In the amount of time it took Tamaki and Hani to return to the room, Kyouya had cut down Tachibana's body with Mori's help and cradled the man's body to his own.

Tamaki's police force (S.C.U.S.P. – Suou Corporation U.S. Police) bagged and tagged the body, all while Tamaki and Mori had to coax Kyouya out of the closet. Kyouya couldn't quite remember the rest.

"Kyouya," Mori murmured, a strong hand at his shoulder. "Should I tell Haruhi...?"

"No," Kyouya couldn't hear his own voice. He cleared his throat and swallowed. "No. Just tell her I've stepped out. I'll be back soon. I need to talk to his family."

Mori nodded, "I'll come with you."

Kyouya shook his head, "Stay with her. I'll be back soon."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hani's voice was dark. "One of us will come with you."

Tamaki—who had returned from the cafeteria with the twins with food for Haruhi—eyed Kyouya, and he knew that look, that scrutinizing look after his time in rehab and therapy.

"I need to go alone,"

"No way," Hikaru was the first of the twins to speak. "Not when you're in this state."

"Worried, are we?" Kyouya gave a dark chuckle.

"You've got her now," Hikaru bit out. "Don't you do anything stupid."

"Come, Kyouya," Tamaki steered Kyouya away. "We'll go to the Tachibanas together. I'll wait in the car," he added when he saw Kyouya begin to protest. "You're in no state to drive right now."

"We'll watch Haru-chan for you," Hani called out to them.

"And we'll call with any updates," Kaoru added.

Tamaki waved to them as he had Kyouya firmly by the shoulder, headed to the elevator.

Once the door closed behind them, Tamaki slumped against the wall, body language defensive. Kyouya stood straight, hands at his side, both clenched into fists.

"Kyouya," Tamaki started, but he did not continue.

They were silent on their way to Tamaki's car.

"Seatbelt," Tamaki's voice sounded strangely hollow. Kyouya obeyed and returned his thoughts to the family.

He couldn't get the words together. He didn't know how to start. Should he jump right into the unpleasant news? Or should he lead up to it? Should he enter when they invite him in? Will they invite him in? His presence would be suspicious to them—they may already know before he opened his mouth to speak. What should he do then?

It started clouding over, darkening the streets. He could feel the chill of the soon-coming rain.

A house stopped in front of him, and Tamaki turned off the engine.

"You going to be okay?" Tamaki asked. He nodded. "I'll be here if you need me."

Kyouya's heart pounded as he opened the door. He made his way to the cream-colored door, pausing to fix his eyes on the red bricks and to gather his scattered thoughts.

The door opened to the expectant gaze of Tachibana's wife. If he remembered correctly, her name was Asumi. Kyouya wasn't even aware he pressed the doorbell.

"Kyouya-sama," her voice was vibrating in his ear. It was sweet and unassuming. "What a surprise! Won't you come in?"

"Asumi-san," he could feel a lump in his throat. "I'm sorry for disturbing you..."

"Oh, don't be!" Asumi was smiling at him so gently. "How can I help you? Tachibana's at your office, if you're looking for him."

Thunder rumbled in the background, and Kyouya could distantly feel worry as his thoughts turned to Haruhi and her fear of thunderstorms. He knew that she was well taken care of by the twins, Hani, and Mori.

"Are your children home?" he was stalling.

"They're at school right now," her eyes were starting to narrow in suspicion. "Do you need to speak with them?"

It was around noon, he knew, but the darkness of the storm passing overhead made him feel like it was evening.

"No," he shook his head. "I—It's about Tachibana-san..."

Kyouya didn't have to go any further for Asumi to arrive at the conclusion of Tachibana's death. Her eyes watered and her hand went immediately to her mouth to cover her oncoming sobs.

He couldn't find any words of comfort, "I'm sorry, Asumi-san."

His apology broke her waterworks, and the tears began to flow. Rain started to patter overhead, and Kyouya could only vaguely wonder why it was that the rain had such timing. But it was better, he thought, than having such a beautiful day ruined by his news.

When Asumi fell to her knees, Kyouya knelt down and placed a hand at her shoulder, which she pushed away. He couldn't say anything else besides his apologies, and as the rain came pelting down, he couldn't tell whether they were rain or tears sliding down his cheeks.

A pair of headlights shined over the house and disappeared again, and Kyouya could only watch, on his knees, the wife of a friend sobbing into her hands, denying his apologies and his wish to comfort her in her—their—grief.

"Asumi-san," he tried again, numbed by the coldness of the unrelenting rain. "I'm sorry."

She took a deep breath, attempting to still her sobs, as she looked up at him. He expected eyes full of hatred and anger, but all he saw were sadness and resignation.

"How?" she whispered.

"Protecting someone," he could only reply.

"You?" she asked.

"No," he murmured, "but under my orders."

To his dim surprise, she smiled. It was small, but it was proud.

"That someone," she whispered again. "Are they alive?"

"Yes,"

She smiled at him with kindness, and he had the distinct feeling that she was comforting him when he should be begging for forgiveness; when she should be hurting him, cursing at him and his existence. He would have felt better. Why was it that no one would give him what he deserved?

"Thank you for coming to inform me," Asumi stood, and he followed suit. "If you don't mind, I'd like to have time for myself."

"Of course. Please contact me if you have need of anything."

"Thank you, Kyouya-sama,"

Kyouya was left standing at the doorstep. He couldn't feel the rain anymore. The cream-colored door was mocking him, he knew, but he couldn't hear it. He turned, feeling the rain pouring more heavily now, and in the distance a figure jumped out of the car parked behind Tamaki's and ran up to him.

Haruhi, soaked to the bone in her blue pantsuit, white collared shirt plastered to her skin, ran up to him, eyes fixated on his face as she held out her arms and wrapped them around him. A long moment passed before Kyouya lifted his arms to bring her in closer to him, barely feeling her warmth against his body.

Thunder and lightning sounded and appeared almost at the same time in the near distance, and Haruhi jumped a little, but she ignored it, clutching his body, running her fingers through his hair, murmuring words into his ear. What words, he wasn't quite sure, but they were soothing. Her warm breaths washing over his ear traveled through his body, bringing life back into his fingers, and he gripped her tighter. His knees weakened, and he loosened his hold, but she went down on the concrete with him, still holding him tightly.

He could feel the pain tighten in his chest, squeezing until he couldn't breathe or think or care, and he began to cry.

**Author's Note:** Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	19. Gravity

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** T for more mature audiences.  
**Written for:** those who have lost someone dear to them.  
**Dedicated to:** greetingsfrommars. Thank you for always reviewing and making me feel like a competent writer! Your encouragement goes such a long way, and I'm thankful for readers like you! :)  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development. Also, they're, like, old now. They're all grown up! –wipes away tear-

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...lucky jerks. :)

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Nineteen:**

_Something always brings me back to you_

_It never takes too long_

_No matter what I say or do_

_I still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone_

_You hold me without touch_

_You keep me without chains_

_I never wanted anything so much_

_Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain__  
_("Gravity" by Sara Bareilles)

Haruhi awoke and felt the empty space beside her. Her body shot up, eyes wild, heart in her throat as she realized that Kyouya was not in the room. She was just clambering out of his bed when she heard the sorrowful tremor of the piano, and she let out a relieved sigh.

She brought Kyouya home in the early afternoon, both soaked under the rain. Her heart lurched at the memory of Kyouya sobbing in her arms after given the news of Tachibana's death to his wife.

Kyouya looked small, kneeling in front of Tachibana's wife. She could only make out the woman's short black hair when the woman stood. When the door closed, and Kyouya turned, Haruhi rushed out into the rain to embrace him.

Tamaki helped him into her car, and kissed her on the forehead.

"If you need me," he murmured against her hair, "you call me."

When they arrived at his apartment, Haruhi seated him on the bed. He had stopped crying. The look in his eyes reminded her of her father's after they lost her mother in the accident. Haruhi should have felt frightened. Her father was a passionate man—after the funeral, he spent his days passive, staring out of the window with her mother's photograph in his hands. It went against his nature, and it made her afraid. And Kyouya should have instilled some sort of fear in her; some preparation for an inevitable breakdown, but he didn't. Instead, she took off his glasses and concentrated on making sure that neither of them became ill.

She was careful with him as she unbuttoned his shirt and helped him out of it. She was quick to bring back a towel from the bathroom and began to rub his hair dry. He was quiet, but he soon lifted his arms to pull her into him.

"Haruhi," he murmured against her skin where her shirt opened to reveal her collarbone.

She smiled at him encouragingly as he brought his face up to meet hers. For a moment, she was astonished. His eyes, usually so guarded, were so open and almost vulnerable. Unable to resist this side of Kyouya, she dipped her head to kiss him gently. What happened afterwards was frenzied, hot, and fervent, and yet so profound, tender, and full, she couldn't complain.

Haruhi shivered as she realized she wasn't dressed and slipped into one of Kyouya's warm robes. She wandered out to the living room where Kyouya was playing the piano and she stood to watch him. The notes were long and she could see tears trickling down his cheeks as the song grew louder and his playing became frazzled and out of beat. Haruhi hurried over and slipped her arms around him as he sat, the last, unfinished notes drifting out of grasp.

"Shh," she murmured into his ear as he buried his face into his hands. "Let's go back to bed."

"I can't sleep," he muttered.

"Then let's not sleep," Haruhi smiled at him as she seated herself next to him. She wiped his tears away with her fingers. "Why don't you teach me how to play?"

He gazed down at her, blank for a moment before he lifted her hands and placed them wordlessly on the keys. He began to teach her basic chords, the C chord, F chord, and G chord. Her fingers clumsily moved over the ivory keys and she winced whenever her fingers went off-key. Going off-key was painful to the ear. It was hard to imagine Tamaki or Kyouya having put so many years in an instrument to play as beautifully as they do. She winced again at her poor playing. She wished she had their patience. Once Haruhi began to feel rhythm vibrating through her fingers, she started to enjoy the melody she was playing. She was enjoying herself so much that she hadn't noticed the soft look in Kyouya's eyes as he watched her.

"Haruhi," he spoke as she struggled to try a different chord, all on her own.

"Hmm?" she was still preoccupied. No key she pressed on sounded right.

He smiled as he placed a hand over hers. She raised her eyes to meet his. He leaned over, pushing her hair away from her cheek with his free hand, and murmured into her ear, "I love you."

Haruhi could feel herself blush deeply as he leaned in to kiss her. She was breathless when he pulled away to bury his face in the crook of her neck. She gave a laugh as his breath tickled her.

"I love you too," Haruhi murmured, running her fingers through his soft dark hair. It was unbelievable how much she loved this current Kyouya. Though, it was probably unfair for her to say this "current" Kyouya. Perhaps this had been Kyouya all along. This Kyouya had been hiding in the darkness of his own doubts; hiding behind what he thought was a wall of strength and determination. This was her Kyouya all along.

"Do you want to talk?" she inquired as she heard Kyouya let out a sigh. "We don't have to, but if you'd like, we can."

Kyouya pulled away this time, his dark eyes searching hers. He closed them, opened them again, and stood with his hand outstretched to her. She took it, confused, as he led them to sit down on his couch. He pulled her into his arms, hands shaking, and she placed her own upon them.

He was silent for a while.

"What happened with his wife?" she finally asked him.

"I told her the news."

"Is she okay?"

A pause; and then, "No." Haruhi threaded her fingers through his. "No, she isn't. But she was very kind."

"Don't blame yourself, Kyouya."

"He was a friend, Haruhi." His voice was breaking, speech broken up by shallow sobs. He pulled away from her to hide his face in his hands.

"I know," she whispered, "but it wasn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have let him follow me to America. I should have commanded that he stayed with my father like the others. But I was selfish—I wanted someone I was familiar with, someone I knew I could trust. He would have lived. He would have been with his family until his time came. The right time. And I couldn't even do anything. I couldn't protect him."

She said nothing. She understood that her words wouldn't comfort him. No one's comforting would help him.

"You were not selfish," she hissed through her clenched throat. She was having a hard time swallowing. "He insisted he come with you." She was starting to get angry, fury bubbling up in her throat. "How could you demean his intentions and his devotion to you like that?"

"Look where his intentions and devotion got him!" Kyouya snarled. He stopped himself, and took a few moments to restrain his anger. But this just frustrated Haruhi even more.

"You can be so clueless!" Haruhi grabbed his shoulders. "You cannot decide anyone's happiness for them. Tachibana made the choice that would make him happy—protecting and serving you."

"It would have been better if it was me."

"Idiot! You—you blundering dunderhead!" Haruhi had the urge to hit him. "No one would be better off. Look at yourself, Kyouya. Had it been you, Tachibana would have been in your place. Everyone would still be devastated. There is no right to this type of wrong. You cannot think that replacing yourself in his place can solve anything!" She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling tired. "You still have to help your brother, right? Who will do that if you are gone? And I know," Haruhi held up a hand to stop Kyouya from speaking, "who will take care of the family now that Tachibana is gone? Life is fair only to a certain extent. The rest of the time, we can only do what we must. Right now is not the time to fall into that infinite abyss, Kyouya. There are people who _need_ you. Tachibana saw something in you, Kyouya, something beautiful and wonderful and warm. He wanted to protect that."

"I wonder if it was worth protecting." She heard Kyouya say.

"Of course it was," Haruhi said, her heart wringing itself in her chest. She moved to settle in his lap, slipping her arms around him. "Or else what would happen to me?"

Kyouya was quiet.

"I started to like you again," she said, not really knowing what she was saying. She just knew she had to keep talking, to keep Kyouya occupied until his mind was too tired to sink into some place dark, some place she couldn't reach him. "I could tell myself that I loved you without hurting, without fighting it anymore. What would happen if you were gone from me, Ootori Kyouya?"

He remained silent, but she felt his arms pull her into his protective embrace, his face buried into the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry, Haruhi," he murmured.

Haruhi's eyes watered.

"Don't be silly," she swallowed. "You don't have anything to be sorry about." Kyouya was silent. "How about we go to bed?" she suggested, tugging lightly at his hair.

Kyouya remained silent as he lifted Haruhi from the couch. After they were settled under the warm comforter, Haruhi curled into his side, allowing her free hand to caress his skin. Soon, she heard slow breathing and lifted her head to kiss him gently. She settled back on his chest, and felt her eyes close.

He was so cold, and he wondered who opened the window so late in the winter season. He tried to get up but found that he couldn't. He was having trouble breathing, and he realized that he had deep pains in his eyes; pain that originated from deep inside his skull. He couldn't see. He tried to get up, but he couldn't move. Breathing was a difficult feat, and his throat burned. He wasn't ill, he knew that much. Why did his throat hurt so? Like the skin of his throat was scratchy and burning and the lack of oxygen was making his head hurt and spin. He tried to blink, but he didn't know if he had his eyes opened or closed or whether he had any control over them. It hurt. He wanted to massage his eyes, but he couldn't lift his arms. His neck hurt now, his throat burned, his eyes and his skull ached, and he could hear screaming. Screaming and laughing. That maniacal laughter was grating to the ears and his stomach.

"I hope you enjoy the afterlife as much as I will!" the laughter continued, and he could feel himself fading, fists clenched.

Kyouya awoke, feeling sweat drip down his forehead despite the chill in his bones.

"Kyouya?" Haruhi's soothing voice appeared to him, but he couldn't see her. Everything was just a haze. He blinked a couple of times and realized that his tears were blurring his vision.

"Damn it," Kyouya cursed, lifting a heavy arm to cover his eyes.

"Are you still having that dream?" That was Tamaki's voice. What time was it? Why is the idiot here at the apartment so goddamn early? "Kyouya?"

"What time is it?" He didn't recognize his own voice.

"Almost noon," Tamaki replied. Kyouya moved his arms to find that Haruhi was no longer in bed with him. "Hey." Tamaki sat at the foot of the bed, blue eyes worried. "Are you going to be all right? You've been having nightmares the past few days."

"It'll fade."

"You're starting to scare us, you know."

"I'm not trying to."

"I know," Tamaki sounded exasperated. "We just can't help it."

"I won't go back down that road if that's what you're worried about."

"We know," Tamaki insisted. "You just can't keep hiding in your apartment forever. We have to go to Tachibana's funeral tomorrow."

"I'm not going."

"Like hell you aren't."

"I'm not ready for it."

"You never will be. You'll regret not going."

"She won't want me there."

"Don't be stupid. She requested your presence."

"Formalities."

"Haruhi was right. You really are exasperating when you're emo."

The weight at the foot of the bed disappeared and he heard the door close. He exhaled, pressing his arm into his eyes. They were hurting enough to give him a headache, deep behind his eyes.

He was afraid. Deathly afraid of something he couldn't grasp or understand. Just the thought of his nightmares made a shudder thunder through his stomach and vibrate into his limbs. And he wasn't ready to go to Tachibana's funeral. It would be closed-casket, but he knew what lay underneath. It was too much, knowing what his friend looked like hanging in that closet.

The light was shining strongly through his heavy curtains. He looked about his room and found that, had Haruhi not been with him, there would be a mess of clothes, sheets, and tissues strewn about the floor like a teenage boy's room. The clothes and sheets had been haphazardly thrown into the hamper—she must have been in a hurry to answer the door—the wastebasket was filled with crumpled facial tissue. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the rest of his four senses. His fingers glided across the stiff sheets, wrinkled only slightly through use. The feeling of dried sweat coated his skin, and he shivered, remembering how similar dried blood felt upon his hands. He could taste the dry bitterness left in his mouth after a night of unpleasant dreams. The sounds of the shower suddenly appeared in his hearing periphery followed by a warm, spicy smell that he could only associate with Haruhi's favorite body wash. He smiled as he recalled her insisting that she didn't buy it for the scent—it was just cheaper than the other options at the store. And yet, the smell—her smell—clung to her clothing, her hair, her skin until one night, after throes of passion, he admitted to her that her scent drove him crazy. Not crazy in the he-was-going-to-throw-it-out sort of way, but the he-wanted-to-tangle-his-hands-in-her-hair-pull-her-head-back-and-ravish-her kind of way. She blushed deeply, and a few days later, Kyouya found a new bottle of it beneath his sink. It was a welcoming memory, and an even more welcoming scent that surrounded him and obliterated the fear and uncertainties.

That woman was good at shaking the "emo" out of him; that was certain.

Kyouya stood, shaking out his stiff limbs and strolled into the bathroom to find that Haruhi had just disappeared behind the fog-framed door. The scent was stronger now, and he could feel his stomach clench. He opened the door and slid in before he pulled it shut. Haruhi paused and turned, eyes showing only slight surprise, and then they softened with relief.

"Kyouya," she murmured as he stepped up to her, feeling the water trickle down his body, warming his stiff muscles. He always thought Haruhi liked the water too hot for her showers, but he was beginning to see how soothing it is. The warmth permeated into deeper parts of his body. "How are you feeling?"

He brushed his lips against her temple and said quietly into her ear, "Better." He noticed that she shivered as he spoke and he smirked. She always did have sensitive ears. Brushing his lips at the nape of her neck, he took the loofah sponge from her hands and ran it across her collarbone.

"What does Tamaki want?" he asked her as she closed her eyes, leaning back against the cool tiles to enjoy his touch.

"Everyone's in the living room with updates," Haruhi replied with a content sigh. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. She whispered frantically, "Oh no, they're in the living room!"

"And?" Kyouya dipped his head to kiss her, arms wrapped around her body, sending her body trembling against his own. He broke the kiss to say, "They can wait" before taking her lips again.

Haruhi didn't protest.

"What took you two so long?" Hikaru complained when they emerged from Kyouya's room.

Kaoru's eyebrow rose at the darkening of Haruhi's cheeks, but said nothing.

"Well, sit, sit." Tamaki gestured towards the empty seats on the couch with a wide sweep of his arm. Kyouya obeyed, but Haruhi went to the kitchen to refresh cups of instant coffee. "Now, where should I start?"

Tamaki was purposefully making a spectacle of himself, humming to himself, hand at his chin as if seriously contemplating his question. Kaoru held back his laugh as his eyes swept over Kyouya's raised eyebrow and Hikaru's impatient finger tapping.

"Hurry the hell up, tono," Hikaru drawled. "We're all busy, you know."

Kaoru turned towards Tamaki to find that he was stuck in his little corner of woe and let out a sigh, "If you're wondering, the case is off, considering Tsumi's dead."

"Jason shot him," Hani added from his place at the piano bench.

"Why did Jason shoot him?" Haruhi asked as she seated herself next to Kyouya.

"Tsumi had Jeanne locked up too. Probably a power trip." Kaoru shrugged. "That part we'll never find out."

"How'd Tsumi get out?"

"You know, for an abusive asshole, he's still got smarts and money," Hikaru huffed. "He paid off the two big burly lumps of meat to take him out for a ride. They picked up Ayano-san and then went after Jeanne who had, apparently, been snooping around."

"And Jason knew about it?"

"Yes," Mori spoke up from Hani's side. Kaoru nodded. "Tsumi called Jason to inform him of this sometime that morning. Something about ensuring victory and justice."

"And Tachibana?" Kyouya's voice was deep and dark.

There was a silence until Kaoru swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke very carefully, "Got caught in the crossfire."

"That's not what I meant," Kyouya shot at him.

"Calm down," Hikaru was quick to defend him. Kaoru thought it was unnecessary, but was grateful all the same. No one spoke for another long moment.

Kaoru watched as Haruhi reached over to take Kyouya's tightly clenched hands. When Kyouya and Haruhi joined them, Kyouya seemed to look somewhat relaxed, and, dare he say it, content, but the subject of Tachibana was still taboo. He didn't think this was a good idea.

"I'm fine," Kyouya said as he took Haruhi's hands in his own. "Please continue."

Kaoru eyed his senior. Kyouya had always been an enigma, and he was starting to think that he would never be able to understand Ootori Kyouya. He was unpredictable. After losing Haruhi, a darkness enclosed him. A darkness that glittered maliciously in his blood conquered Ootori Kyouya, and Kaoru doubted that the man seated across from him defeated it. Only Haruhi could coax him away from the darkness that became such a concrete part of him, and Kaoru knew that Kyouya could not resist her beautiful light. Nevertheless, there was something seductive in that darkness, something that took a lot more than Haruhi to overpower it.

"According to Ayano-san, Tachibana fought hard for her, and Tsumi took an interest in him," Tamaki's voice drifted over from his corner. He straightened his dress shirt, and patted the invisible specks off his trousers. "So Tsumi took him along."

"What else?" Kyouya's teeth were gritted.

Kaoru took a sip of commoner coffee as his eyes wandered over to his twin's slouched body. Hikaru was fiddling with his watch in interest. Eyes met Mori's, and Mori only gave him a single nod. Hani was swinging his legs back and forth, eyes downcast. Only Tamaki stood tall and met Kyouya's eyes.

"What do you mean, Kyouya?" Tamaki stood casually against the wall. "What exactly is it you want to know?"

"How did he die?"

"You know exactly how he died."

"How did it happen?"

"We'll never know."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Tamaki."

"We don't have the answers to the questions you want answered."

"Bullshit."

"Believe what you want." Tamaki waved a hand as if to dismiss him. "We can't answer those questions."

"Please," Haruhi said in that quiet voice. Kaoru knew that word had an impact on Tamaki, especially when it came from Haruhi. Their Host Club King will always have a softness for Fujioka Haruhi. "Surely you know something?"

"Jeanne refused to talk about it." Tamaki finally relented. "Ayano as well."

"Surely the police requested for one of them to speak?" Haruhi pushed gently. "They need that information in the police reports."

"They've been given a few days off due to shock," Tamaki explained. "The police will follow up with them in a few days."

"So what happens now?" Hikaru spoke up. "No court case, Jason's been taken in for previous crimes, Jeanne's status is pending, and Ayano-san is still in the hospital."

"We'll have to get Ayano-san taken care of," Haruhi said with a chin resting on a free palm. "I'll refer my current clients to someone I know will take care of them."

Kaoru was taken aback.

"Refer your clients to someone else?" Tamaki asked, incredulous. "Why on earth would you do that?"

"Are you quitting, Haru-chan?"

"Then what are you planning on doing?"

As Haruhi was bombarded with questions of understandable shock value, Kaoru's eyes wandered over to Kyouya who was playing with Haruhi's free hand with idle concentration. He seemed no more surprised than they were—perhaps they had already agreed on a degree of action?

"I'll be taking a trip back to Japan." Ah, that smile. Kaoru knew that smile. It was a smile that elicited only agreement and understanding from those who opposed her. It was no wonder she was deadly in a courtroom.

"Japan?" Hikaru was in disbelief. "You're moving back?"

"No," Haruhi laughed. "Just some...business matters to take care of."

"So you'll return to the States afterwards," Kaoru said slowly.

"Yes."

"And Kyouya?"

There was a silence. Kaoru had no doubts that Kyouya would refuse to let Haruhi go.

"We'll see," Haruhi spoke up with that smile again.

"When do you plan on returning to Japan?"

"Next month, after everything is settled, of course."

"We'll go back with you." Tamaki was insistent. Of course he was.

"Yes." Mori's smile, alongside Hani's, was almost dazzling. "Together."

"Like old times!" piped up Hani.

Haruhi opened her mouth to protest, and Kaoru could feel that old Host Club energy returning to their group, infiltrating the room from the ceilings to the floorboards, curling into crevices deep within his organs. It was like coming home.

**Author's Note:** Oh, the piano. It's been years since I've played, but I still remember my basic chords...and some really easy songs. I resisted the piano for years because I wanted to play the violin but my mother wouldn't allow it. Now I wish I concentrated more on the piano. Anyone else have instrumental-related regrets like that? Or was I the only lucky Asian who played so badly that her father made her stop taking lessons? Lol!

Happy 2013, everyone! I hope that you can all stick to those flimsy New Year's resolutions this year! Nyahahha~ What are your resolutions for this year? Share with me! :)

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	20. Me

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Written for:** 2013! The first update of the new year!  
**Dedicated to:** DarkRavie for gracing me with a lovely (and the first) review for chapter 19! Thank you for your support! And a shoutout to Bubblybunny153 and, as always, Aletheotaku and greetingfrommaars (sorry about the last time—I misspelled your username!) for always sending me a review!  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...and any characters you don't recognize would be mine. Unfortunately, they're not as cool as the Ouran gang. Mewmew.

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twenty:**

_Life,_

_Got kinda hard, I faced it_

_Fought and cried and almost gave in_

_All negative forces faded_

_Love of me just walked right in_

_I'm just me, I'm enough_

_With myself I'm in love_

_I've been weak, I've been low_

_Made me strong, now I know_

_I'm just me, I'm enough_

_Nothin' less, nothing more_

_I wish everybody could just feel this kind of love__  
_("Me" by KINA)

Kyouya was seated on the veranda, overlooking the city where he grew up. Tokyo lost its charms to him a long time ago. The large crowds, the blatant materialism, and the deception around every corner—they disgusted him. They disgusted him because they reminded him of himself, those years ago when he was willing to sacrifice and discard the most important people in his life, and the person who led him out of the dark depths of "progressive" and "innovative" humanity. He was back for one reason, and only one: his brother, who, at this moment, was refusing to see and acknowledge the youngest Ootori's return.

Haruhi was sitting next to him, eyes intent on her laptop, her glasses propped up against her nose, and a cute furrow of brows appearing on occasion. She refused to see Akito until Akito was ready, but by the looks of it—Kyouya growled. By the looks of it, Akito won't want to see Haruhi any time soon. The Asakura family was a powerful one—Reiko even more so with her smooth intelligence, impeccable manners, and indignant dignity. To cross them would be economic suicide.

Not that he had much to lose. He had to admit to himself that while he was ready to risk anything—meager as those offerings may be—the one person who has to be ready was currently avoiding him.

He let out a sigh as he placed his coffee mug on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. He gazed down at the ugly ceramic thing. When he and Haruhi landed at Narita Airport, he had taken her, quickly, to a car rental counter after hurried good-byes to the rest of the Host Club members—he recognized the looks of some of the airport personnel and how they discreetly spoke into a microphone hidden in their collars. He didn't want to drag the Host Club too far into their—his—world, though any association with him rendered following eyes. Having any of the Host Club members to drive them would be tantamount to future inconvenience. Haruhi said nothing on the car ride back to his condo, but couldn't contain herself when she was in the kitchen and found his coffee mug. It was an ugly thing—nothing he was accustomed to using when he was still an official son of Ootori—but, as she gave a giggle, he explained that it had been one of the things he made for Tachibana as a child, but never gave to him. Now he wished that he had.

His condo was simple, and it was a decent enough size for one person, cozy for two. When he first moved in, he hated it. It was sparse and regardless of how he decorated the place, he felt like he was missing something. As a result, he was never at the condo often. Having Haruhi there was a blessing. She was what had been missing from his apartment. He gazed over at her. She was typing furiously, eyes moving across her screen, with a half-eaten croissant hanging from between her teeth as if she had completely forgotten about it.

"Haru," he spoke as he reached over to push a stray hair from her cheeks. She gave him a noncommittal hum to indicate that she was listening. "I'm going to drive by Akito's office. I'll be back soon."

She paused, eyes searching his for a moment. Taking the croissant from between her teeth, she took a bite and sat back to gaze at him thoughtfully.

"Do you think that's wise?"

"He can't avoid me forever."

"I don't think he wants to see you yet."

"Haru, I can't have my brother being taken advantage of."

"But what if he wants to be?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow at her. She continued, "Perhaps he doesn't see it as Reiko-san taking advantage of him. He sees it as an opportunity to help her. If he doesn't see it as been taking advantage of, I don't see how he would want our help. Perspective is everything."

"It will ruin the Ootori Corporation," he began.

"Which is no longer any of your concern," she reminded him.

"I just don't want to see him hurt in the end," Kyouya sighed as he leaned back into the comfortable wicker chair. "Perspective is everything, but perspectives can change. And the realization can damage far more than the actual offense."

"True," Haruhi said as she took another bite. She removed her glasses. "But that's where we step in. For now, perhaps we should give him some time to think things through."

"I just can't sit idly by."

"You won't be." Haruhi smiled at him. "You can help me with something."

Kyouya's eyebrows rose, "And that would be?"

"I've been trying to find information on the Asakura Corporation." Haruhi let out a sigh. "I've found nothing useful so far. Even if we have Akito's permission to go through and prosecute Reiko-san, I don't have the proof."

"You'd like me to do some snooping on the Asakura Corporation?"

"Not exactly. They don't have their annual reports on file. Most corporations do. I need annual reports from the past few years. That should be enough to give me an idea of what exactly it is we're up against."

"They won't be careless to have annual reports that don't match up. They're too clever for that."

Haruhi gave him a sly smirk that reminded him of his Shadow King days as she said, "Oh, but not clever enough. The person doing their annual reports is extremely well known for making discrepancies on false reports. They're not very thorough."

"They wouldn't hire someone like that without reason. They do thorough background checks on all of their employees," pointed out Kyouya.

"This person well-known to make inaccurate false reports—that's why they want them. This way, they can push all the blame on the report maker for it, and still get away with handling money on the Black Market." Haruhi finished the croissant and turned her eyes to the smoggy blue sky on the horizon. "But background checks only get you so far. It doesn't tell you about personality. This person is a potential witness."

"You want annual reports from the past couple of years," Kyouya said after a pause, "and this mysterious annual report writing man?"

"_Woman_," Haruhi smiled. "I'd like you to arrange a meeting with her."

* * *

One of the distasteful things about returning to Japan was his lack of mobility. He couldn't move about openly without the Ootori Police Force (OPF) watching his every move. After Tachibana's death, he let go of his bodyguards and staff (but not without setting them up with another employer). He wouldn't have had any use for them in Japan anyway. The OPF was merciless, but he was sure that they wouldn't harm him; he was still an Ootori, even if publically renounced. Still, he was on his own in Japan. He didn't want to risk anyone's safety at the hands of the notorious police force, especially at his expense. Not that he couldn't do these things as easily as his previous contacts—he could easily gather information by himself back then, but he never found any reason to. Now that he had dismissed his staff, and his business contacts were under strict surveillance, he was better off doing the dirty work himself. Disownment was a pain in the ass. But, he shook his head as he parked in front of the Asakura Corporation, he'd never felt freer in his life.

He never thought of freedom this way—unhindered by the society of which he worked so hard to be a member.

Haruhi left him to do his planning as she went to the library. He protested at first—he knew that the OPF had surveillance on his condo and had probably reported to his father that Haruhi has returned—but she reassured him that she has everything taken care of should she be compromised. And, she added with a wink, he was undermining the Suou, Hitachiin, Haninozuka, and Morinozuka families.

His cell phone rang and his eyes glazed over the familiar number.

"Ootori Kyouya speaking." He turned off the engine.

"Heard you have returned, Kyouya."

"Yes."

"And under surveillance?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps you are in need of some assistance?"

Kyouya could feel a smirk appearing at the corner of his lips. There was something to be said of Nekozawa Umehito. Umehito the Black Club president was a sniveling youth with dark passions and bright fears; Umehito the man was far more dangerous. He was never swayed by money, status, or fame. His Bereznoff puppet made sure of that.

He snorted at the idea of the puppet, but as long as it made Umehito an unrelentingly loyal business partner and friend, he was rather thankful for it. Umehito acted on his own wishes, not society's, and his priorities lie in friendship and the "good of the world" (Bereznoff's words, apparently). Or, in Umehito's case, he acted upon Bereznoff's wishes. Kyouya always believed Umehito only used that ridiculous doll to channel his own feelings and beliefs—this transference of quality to master was a brilliant one, Kyouya had to admit. Childish, but brilliant. In this way, Umehito can act as he wishes, all while saying that it was not his own wishes, but a god's wishes. A cat god by the name of Bereznoff. It chased away those of impure hearts, the Nekozawa heir once told him when they were discussing a new business plan after Kyouya regained his self-worth and had his heart set on creating his own empire and finding Haruhi. Those who were not of moral conduct were scared away by the cat god and the man's eccentricities, and those who _were_, well, they'd come to him when they needed him.

"How did you know I have need for assistance, Umehito?"

"Who else?" Kyouya could hear the shrugging of two sets of shoulders, one man, one puppet. "Bereznoff told me you're on a mission to help your brother."

"They'll be watching you." Kyouya eyed a few windows of the Asakura building. He could see just a glint of a pair of sunglasses at the upper left corner of the window within vision.

"No, they won't," Umehito's chuckle was dark and overdramatic. "The Ootori Police Force hadn't been able to get into my systems since you and I started our business deal. It drives them batty. Your father, especially."

"Have you kept an eye on Akito?"

"More or less. Seems like he's been avoiding any contact with the main family as well."

Kyouya's eyebrows rose at this, "What has the head of the Ootori Corporation said about this?"

"Nothing," Umehito's voice was quiet. "I don't think he or your eldest brother cares."

"I see."

"They're having their own issues maintaining the Ootori Corporation as it is. I don't think they know about the Asakura Corporation or what they're dabbling with on the Black Market. Also," the man hesitated, and Kyouya waited patiently for him to continue, "Haruhi has returned as well?"

"Yes. She's staying with me."

"I'll place a protective barrier around her, just in case then," Umehito said thoughtfully, quietly. "I hope that's all right."

He didn't quite believe in those superstitions or of a dark realm or a god (cat or otherwise), but if it meant protecting Haruhi, he was willing to take advantage of anything.

"Of course," Kyouya said. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," Umehito's voice was suddenly brisk. "Listen, Asakura Reiko knows you're on to her and her company. She won't be thrilled to see you."

"That's not a problem." Kyouya smirked as he stepped out of the car. He could see a line of men in suits just behind the revolving door. He straightened his red tie. "I can take care of them."

"Be careful," Umehito warned.

Kyouya hung up and gazed up at the foreboding building. This will most certainly be fun.

Asakura Reiko, president and soon-to-be CEO of the Asakura Corporation, tapped her fingers against her desk, careful not to ruin her manicure, as she awaited the arrival of a certain pain in the behind she was to call "brother-in-law." She was very aware of the fact that this certain Ootori was not like the rest of them; they were self-absorbed, greedy, and paranoid about their stocks and business opportunities. This one had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, and, frankly, it irritated the hell out of her. She couldn't read him or his intentions. That was new. She prided herself in being able to read people—how else would the Asakura Corporation be financially stable with millions to spare with millions more pouring in?

This annoying little brother was a mystery. Even her irksome husband couldn't read or control him.

_Useless_, her eyes narrowed.

There was a knock at her door, and she stood, lips curved into a professional smile.

"Come in," she called out as she moved to the front of her desk, hands clasped behind her, spine straight, head tilted at just the right intimidating angle.

"President, your guest. I will bring in the tea shortly."

Ootori Kyouya strolled into the room, a smirk hidden behind a grave, friendly smile. She could see that much from his face. Other than that, he was a blank slate, and she could feel something itching alongside the inside of her chest.

"Kyouya-kun!" She kept her voice friendly. "Welcome home." She made no move towards him.

"Thank you. How have you been?" Kyouya made no move towards her either.

"I've been doing well. Please," she stepped aside and gestured towards a chair in front of her desk, "sit down. We'll have tea served in a moment."

Kyouya inclined his head and accepted the seat. She moved back behind her desk again. As the tea was served, she kept her trained eyes on his relaxed figure.

He was too relaxed. This man wasn't so naive to walk right into the lioness's den without his own share of protection, yet here he was, looking as if he were at home. As if he had the upper hand. His face was passive, but not unfriendly. Had she been younger, she would have thought that Ootori Kyouya was the better-looking one out of the three siblings with deep, dark eyes, dark hair, and a refined air about him. But had she been younger, she also would have known that Ootori Kyouya was not one to be trifled with, and she wouldn't. This fact rests heavily on her current position and her vast knowledge of manipulation. She eyed his body language—neutral. Completely neutral. There were no signs of distress, superiority, anger, or even suspicion.

His posture had always been good—straight-backed, never slouching, but where he used to tilt his chin up, as if he looked down at the world, he now kept it at a natural angle. She eyed his hands, but they lay neutrally on the armrests of the chair, fingers relaxed and still. He had not touched his tea.

"Now, Kyouya-kun." Reiko picked up her teacup daintily. "How may I help you?"

"As you know, Reiko-san," Reiko was surprised to hear him say her name. He never liked her—she could tell—and he never called her "big sister" or anything remotely familiar; he avoided calling her anything, even her name. Her brown eyes narrowed in suspicion now. "I've started my own company."

"Yes." She replaced the teacup on the desk, leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and her fingertips came together. She gazed at him past her hands. "Akito has informed me as much."

"I am interested in someone whom you have working for you."

Stealing an employee? Which outstanding employee did he want?

"Oh? And what do you want with this employee?"

Kyouya gave her a grin, "I'd like to meet them."

"You don't plan on hiring then?"

"Oh, that I can't say. I'd like to meet them first. I'd like to see if they are someone I'd like working for my company."

"So there is a possibility of hiring." Reiko was getting angry. Who did this little brat think he was? And he had the gall to just waltz right into her company and possibly steal an employee from right under her nose?

"Yes, of course."

Again, neutral tone, only mildly interested.

She was starting to feel curious. He hadn't asked her anything about her company and their profits, nor had he inquired after his brother after she deliberately brought Akito's name up first. She knew Kyouya's affections for her husband, and not asking after him could only mean one of two things: either he had already spoken with Akito (but she highly doubted that since Akito insisted he wanted nothing to do with his younger brother), or he was planning something else. There was a reason that Ootori Yoshio wanted the youngest Ootori to take over the corporation, and Reiko was not going to allow that little detail to go unnoticed.

"What makes you think that I would let go of a valued employee?"

That infinitely irritating smirk graced the younger man's lips, "Do you know who I'm asking for, Reiko-san?"

He was testing her. His ego was infuriating. She crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair to survey him. Still neutral, apart from that teasing little smirk on his face, he gave away no other hints of satisfaction. He was waiting for her to play her part.

"I don't know," she admitted, letting out a sigh. "But I assure you that all of my employees are valuable."

"Of course." Kyouya nodded. "I only wish to speak with this person. If there is any threat of my interest, I will discuss matters with you first."

"Knowing you, you don't take 'no' for an answer."

"And knowing you, you know there is no harm since I've come to ask your permission first."

That was true. Most executives would sneak behind her back to talk to any employee that showed great potential. It was one of the characteristics of her family's shining empire—those who chose to work at her corporation were high on the lists of other potential employers. This man was surely up to something.

"Who is it?"

"Houshakuji Renge. Your annual reporter."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I have been hired to teach in Taichung very, very soon, so I'm going to update this chapter now just before things get crazy busy with moving and lesson planning and the like. Never fear—I've got the next two chapters written, so I can still update as I adjust to a new lifestyle! Thanks for your patience!

Ah, the return of one of my beloved characters. I'll bet you didn't see that coming! Hehehe~ I've always loved Nekozawa Umehito—I was so disappointed not to see him often enough in the manga or anime. So I decided to improvise. Make note there's a reason Kyouya doesn't add any honorifics to Umehito's name, even though Umehito is technically his senior. They're both on a first-name-without-honorifics basis. Oh, yes, and helloooo, Renge!

Reiko is the president of the company because her father is still the CEO. She reports to him and the board of directors for the time being. Once her father relinquishes his position as CEO, she will take over and find a new president, should she choose to do so.

Just a note, yes, Akito really is Kyouya's older brother's name. Yuuichi is his eldest brother. Keep this in mind for future chapters, please!

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	21. Stars Falling Down

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** T – for mentions of things. Just...things. And language. Don't use bad language in every day speech! It's bad –angry face-  
**Written for:** finishing this. I need to finish this soon. It's long and I'm sure readers are starting to wonder why I'm dragging this out. I'M NOT. I SWEAR! Sorry for boring you T_T  
**Dedicated to:** Bubblybunny153 for such an enthusiastic first review of chapter 20! hehe, yes, it's Renge! Also, shoutouts to such familiar and lovely readers who left reviews as well: DarkRavie, Aletheotaku, and Destinies Entwined (Bri!). You're all so fantastic, and know how to make me smile. And a SPECIAL thanks to greetingsfrommaars for pointing out a very bad error I made on my part in the previous chapter. I've changed "persecute" to "prosecute" as it should be. Thanks for pointing that out to me! And so sorry for my carelessness!  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...buuuuut for now, Endless Story belongs to me. MOOHAHAHAHA!

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

_I think that the stars would have waited for us_

_Hanging onto the night, watching down below_

_Until we were hand in hand, together waiting for them_

_So when I open my eyes, I saw it too_

_Stars falling down_

_Stars falling down_

("Stars Falling Down" by Kina Grannis (Paul Dateh Remix))

"GAH! I hate working!" Houshakuji Renge cried out as she threw her hands up in the air in an act of surrender. She plunged her face into a pillow she kept at her desk for such distressing occasions and muttered curses under her breath.

She pulled out little dolls of extreme likeness to her father and herself from a hidden drawer under her desk, and began to mimic them.

"Renge, in order to get you ready to take control of the company, I strongly suggest you employ yourself first," Papa Doll said in a deep voice.

"But Father!" Renge Doll protested. "I don't want to take control! I want to marry a handsome shining bright knight on a white horse!"

"None of that, Renge! I am an evil warlord and I refuse to let you do what you want any longer! You are an adult now—I've satisfied your pathetic little whims long enough! DO MY BIDDING, DAUGHTER-SLAVE!" Papa Doll roared.

"You're so mean, Daddy!" Renge Doll hit Papa Doll with such ferocity that he flew across the room, hit the wall, and fell to the floor with an unceremonious thump.

Renge sighed as she stood to pick up the doll. It was unfair of her to be so angry with her father for making her work, but still, she huffed, did it have to be so unglamorous? Stuck in an office, required to wear proper pantsuits, and answer to a demoness of a president? She was better off doing her own little printing business in fan comics. She did make quite a profit, even after the Shadow King of the Host Club deducted the Host Club's percentage of the share, so why couldn't she just continue doing something she liked for a living? Besides, she was doing fairly well at the previous printing company that allowed her _some_ creative endeavors.

Her phone rang, and Renge hurried back to her desk to answer it, "Yes, this is Houshakuji speaking."

"Houshakuji," the demoness's voice slithered out of the phone and Renge had to suppress a shudder. Her job wouldn't be so bad if her boss had been someone kinder. And male. More specifically, a handsome male. Even more specifically, a handsome, single, straight male. "There is someone who would like to meet with you. I've sent him to your office to discuss any details. He should be there very soon."

Renge perked up at the male pronouns used, "Yes, President. Thank you."

At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and Renge hurried to put away her dolls and straighten her blazer and hair.

"Come in," she called out in her more seductive voice. She was hoping that whatever hunk was behind that door was single. And straight. Her run-ins with gay men were too frequent—though they did satisfy her inner fangirl very much.

When the door opened and revealed a very familiar face, Renge's jaw dropped open. Her eyes followed suit.

"Houshakuji-san," Ootori Kyouya said, his lips pursed in an unaffectionate smile. He nodded at the demoness's secretary to dismiss her. The little woman gave Renge a dismayed look before she closed the door. "How are you?"

"Kyouya-kun..."

"You haven't changed at all," Kyouya chuckled darkly. "Are you finished gaping at me?"

"I thought you—I mean, that is to say—I thought you left Japan?"

"Just a bit of a business trip," he replied.

They were left in silence until Renge realized she hadn't offered him a seat.

"Oh, I'm sorry, please sit."

"Thank you." Kyouya was cool and aloof as usual. Like he hadn't changed.

"Now how may I help you?"

"You are the one who is in charge of the annual reports for the Asakura Corporation, am I right?"

"Yes." Renge cleared her throat. She was aware of her reputation for putting out flawed annual reports. Though, she defended herself, she just wanted to be in a more creative field, and decided to get creative with the reports. And it did land her with a job at the Asakura Corporation a few years ago. Even though, technically, she didn't want to be there. Her other job had been much more satisfying. Renge gave herself a mental note to play out that scenario with her dolls later.

"We'd like to discuss a proposition."

"'We'?" Renge inquired.

Kyouya smirked, and Renge swallowed hard as he said, "Will you have time for a business lunch sometime within the next week, Houshakuji-san?"

* * *

"Well, that was easier than expected," Haruhi exhaled as she stretched, enjoying the cool autumn air out on the balcony. She and Kyouya were having dinner a few days after Kyouya's meeting with Reiko. She was rather surprised when she returned to the condo after her run to the Law Library to see Kyouya in the kitchen, cooking. She never thought she would see him doing anything domestic. She made sure to watch him just long enough to etch the memory and image into her brain. "Renge-san never did seem like someone who would turn down this opportunity. Asakura-san, however..."

"She's curious," Kyouya replied simply as he took a sip of white wine that went along with their pasta. "She can't help herself."

"Mm," Haruhi mumbled through a mouthful of the delicious pasta. Who knew Kyouya was such a good cook? "Kyouya, where did you learn to cook?"

"In England. Their food didn't sit well with me."

"It is a pleasant surprise," Haruhi laughed. "We always went out to eat when we were in America." Her laughter faded at Kyouya's thoughtful, solemn look. She decided to change the subject, "What will be your next move in the case?"

Haruhi watched him speak with her chin resting on her palm. His eyes lit up as they ventured away from the topic of America, where they left behind dark memories. He was almost in his element in Japan. This new challenge, having to do everything himself, in spite of being watched by both the Ootori Police Force and the Asakura Security Alliance, was something that excited him. Even though it was inconvenient, Haruhi had no doubts that Kyouya was enjoying himself.

Their lunch meeting with Renge went very, very well. She was receptive and honest and open, and more importantly, very willing to help them with their cause. Though, Haruhi stifled a laugh, Renge had nearly fallen out of her seat when Kyouya walked up to the table with her on his arm. When Haruhi discovered Renge's part in the Asakura Corporation, she was relieved. She knew the avid fangirl well enough to know that the fangirl would not be difficult to work with.

"Your thoughts are drifting, Haru," Kyouya's smooth voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Mm," Haruhi closed her eyes to feel the breeze. "It's been a while since we've gotten a chance to unwind like this." She opened her eyes again to observe the handsome man across from her. Tie loosened, stiff shirt collar undone, revealed a patch of smooth skin that led up to a shapely Adam's apple, and a distinct jawline. His dark hair was smoothed back loosely with hair product, so that strands of hair fell gracefully into his dark eyes, hidden under those damn glasses that somehow skyrocketed that notch of sexiness. He always did have an attractive smile, she decided, but there was almost a withered look under his eyes and at the corners of his lips. She almost wanted to kiss them away.

She blushed at the thought. Ever since she and Kyouya had started fulfilling their sexual needs, she found herself more and more attracted to him during prolonged times together. Just a small spark of realization, and she would have to actively rewire her body to stop reacting to fantasies in her head. It doesn't help either when Kyouya picks up on those sparks and seduces her. She was only grateful that this had not happened in public or in any conspicuous place. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought the balcony would be one of the places the adventurous Ootori Kyouya wanted to...

She willed her mind to skitter away from the thought.

The twins and Tamaki spent the day at the library with her; the twins complaining—loudly, may she add—of their boredom. She ended up sending the twins away on a 'business' run, explaining to them that she needed some updates on Ootori Akito. They warped out of the library. Tamaki had always been a more quiet type, and sat with her, his eyes intent on his own company's workings and numberings. She told him that he needn't be there when his office would be far more comfortable, but he only smiled and kept working, and Haruhi felt at peace. As much as she loved the energies of the Host Club, it was hard not to appreciate that they've all grown up.

"I heard you sent the twins to check up on Akito?" Kyouya inquired as he settled his utensils on the table.

"Nothing gets by you, does it?" chuckled Haruhi as she leaned back in her seat. She's grown far to accustomed to this place. She didn't know how she felt about that.

"Nothing," he replied, equally as relaxed as she was.

They probably shouldn't be as relaxed as they currently were; they are not only treading upon one of the two biggest corporate offices in Japan, but they were treading on _both_ of them. She wondered briefly how Kyouya's small company would be able to defeat his father's and his sister-in-law's companies. Still, Kyouya was never one to be underestimated. He made cons into pros without a single thought. It was in his blood, engrained in his very being. He would have made a very competitive lawyer.

Haruhi laughed at that, and smiled in response when Kyouya raised an elegant eyebrow.

He insisted, when they left the U.S., for her to bring her easel and more beloved painting materials, which were now set up on the opposite side of the veranda. She gazed over at it now, feeling no particular itch in her fingers to start a new painting. In the end, she wondered if her interest in painting had been some sort of replacement for Kyouya, and now that she had him, would she still want to paint? Haruhi entertained the thought of not painting anymore, only to find that it made her feel slightly lonely.

"Kyouya." She decided to venture a little bit into her partner's darkness. "Have you spoken to Yuuichi at all?"

She could see Kyouya pause at her familiarity with his eldest brother. He turned to her, eyes hidden behind the reflection of light on his glasses, "No. Why do you ask?"

"I think it would be nice if you gave him a call."

"You don't want me seeing Akito, but you're fine with me speaking to the eldest brother who has the least emotion out of the Ootori brothers?" He didn't sound angry. He sounded amused.

"Family is family."

"Speaking to Yuuichi would mean I would have to speak to father sooner than I'd like." Kyouya loosened his tie and then left it undone around his neck. "You know how he is."

"Yes," Haruhi was careful with her words. "But perhaps he could help us."

Kyouya didn't seem too happy about that thought, "Why would you think he would be willing to help us?"

"I don't know."

She was honest. It was a bit of a whimsical request, but the more she thought about their situation, the more appealing contacting Yuuichi seemed. Yuuichi always was hands-off when it came to Kyouya's life, even while they were at Ouran. Akito had been the one to always take it upon himself to be up-to-date with Kyouya's grades, social life, and the like. From an ice-cold family like the Ootoris, Haruhi had no doubt that Kyouya's affections for the second eldest came from this strange form of attention. In a way, Akito's attention was the only way he knew how to display affection. However, there was no manner in which Yuuichi wouldn't harbor affection for his brothers, despite the youngest having the motivation to take what the oldest thought was rightfully his.

The rich must be a lot more miserable than she thought.

"Haru," Kyouya said, reaching over the table to grasp her hand in his. "I really don't think Yuuichi would be willing to help us. He wasn't exactly thrilled when I was announced the heir, and he was even angrier when I said I didn't want it."

"He might have changed. Shouldn't we give him the benefit of the doubt? Besides," Haruhi added, "if we succeed, don't you think he can keep your father from snooping around too much?"

Kyouya laughed at this and squeezed her hand, "Haruhi."

"Hmm?" Haruhi gazed up at him as she realized that he was now standing in front of her. He knelt down and kissed her palms gently, sending pleasant tingles up her arms and into her fingers. His hair, loosened from their hold by the breeze, caressed her arm, and she wanted to run her hands through it. Working his way up her to wrists, Haruhi watched as he hesitated, placed a firm kiss on each wrist, and then stood back up.

"I'll clean up," Kyouya's voice was faint. "I want you to paint tonight."

Paint? He must have realized the easel sat, untouched, a little over a week they've been back in Tokyo. An instant flood of fondness for this lover and best friend coursed through her veins, into the very pit of her stomach, and she had to violently blink away tears.

She watched him as he gathered up the plates and utensils, and headed inside, but not without gesturing for her to seat herself at her easel to paint. Haruhi relented and did what she could to seat herself upon the stool and gaze at the white canvas. But the subject of her painting failed her. She grasped it, and then it skittered away, skipping and laughing into the abyss of her infinite mind, and was lost completely.

"Artist's block," she mumbled. She stretched out her limbs, raising her face to the night sky, and was disappointed to meet with a sheet of black. The stars were nowhere to be seen. Only a few, bigger, brighter ones shone past the foggy atmosphere and all of the city lights, but it felt lonesome. It made her feel lonesome.

Kyouya placed a cup of hot jasmine tea at the table next to her elbow and left her in peace.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Kyouya seated upon his wicker chair with a book. She had never been much of the domestic type. She did what she had to—clean the house, wash the dishes—but she never thought about having to join with someone, create new life, and be a wife and a mother. She thought she liked the thought of it, the first time she and Kyouya were together, but now, she wondered, why did that thought make her feel lonelier than it did before?

* * *

Kyouya noticed Haruhi's stillness from across the open space. He lifted his eyes from his book to find her gazing at him, her brows furrowing in perplexed concentration. She wasn't quite looking at him, but she wasn't gazing past him either.

He'd almost done it, and, at the last minute, feeling Haruhi's unsettledness, pulled back to wait. He resolved to wait until at least after they solved the Akito and Reiko case—settled it, at any rate—and when he was sure.

He gazed down at his own mug of tea; the mug was disfigured, though made with the best of intentions for a bodyguard who wouldn't let him cry in public, and instead allowed him to shed a few tears in the limousine before they reached the Ootori Mansion. And, before he was allowed out of the car, Tachibana would wipe away the tear stains and straighten his uniform. Those rare days, when Kyouya was feeling vulnerable, Tachibana would pat him on the head. Words were never exchanged, but kindness was felt and understood, and it soothed.

That day had been a bright day. Kyouya almost wished that it had been raining, so that dressing black felt more appropriate. Wearing black under such a bright sky felt wrong. It was a simple ceremony—not many people, considering Tachibana was far from home. But Asumi-san had insisted that he be buried in America. It had always been a dream of his, she said, to be buried upon such warm and open land. It was, she said, an opportunity of a lifetime for him.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Kyouya growled in spite of himself. He should have been thankful for the person who called, but as his eyes read the number on the screen, he would have preferred to stay in his thoughts.

"Yes?"

There was a pause, "Kyouya."

"Big brother," he replied.

Another pause, and then, "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Kyouya stole a look at Haruhi who now gazed deeply into the white of her canvas. "But that's not what you called to talk about."

"No," the man confirmed.

"What do you need?"

"Don't push Akito any further."

"I haven't spoken to Akito."

"He knows you're here. He knows what you're doing. Stop it."

"I can't do that."

"Yes, you can," Yuuichi's voice was harsh. "The Asakura Corporation—"

"—is an asset to bringing back the Ootori Corporation to its full glory," Kyouya finished for him. "I know."

"So stop screwing around and leave it to us."

"Your priorities and mine are different. I refuse to leave anything to you."

"Father's been keeping an eye on you."

"I know that."

"So why are you acting like some rebellious teenager? You have nothing to do with us anymore—I don't see why I need to make this phone call."

"Likewise."

"If this is about that little commoner you've brought back with you—"

"I would suggest," Kyouya growled darkly, "you leave her out of this conversation. I may have been renounced, _big brother_, but I'm still an Ootori."

"An Ootori with no power to speak of." Yuuichi's laugh thundered in Kyouya's ears. "You mock the Ootori name."

"The Ootori name is not so easily mocked, big brother. An Ootori without power is an Ootori destined for greater power."

"You better watch what you say," Yuuichi hissed. "You've let go of some of your mask, Kyouya, and it will do nothing but ruin you."

"Or perhaps you're just too stuck on one specific mask, dear brother." Kyouya's eyes invariably went towards Haruhi who had caught on to the conversation and was making her way to him. "You're afraid that you don't know what mask I'm wearing now. It scares you."

"Don't look down on me, you little shit."

"Losing your cool now, big brother?" Kyouya gave a chuckle as Haruhi seated herself on his right leg, hands folded in front of her. He caressed the small of her back, feeling her warmth in the palm of his hand. "How out of character for you."

"I called to tell you to stay out of our way, Kyouya." Yuuichi seemed to have regained his composure. "This is a warning from the CEO and the President of the Ootori Corporation."

Kyouya grinned, "Challenge accepted." He hung up promptly.

"Kyouya?" Haruhi ran her hand through his hair and he closed his eyes, pulling her deeper into his embrace. "Was that Yuuichi?"

"Yes." He kissed her in reassurance. She didn't ask him what Yuuichi wanted. "Are you ready?"

"Ready?"

"The next stage," he whispered into her sensitive ear.

"Already?"

"The stage is set."

She wrinkled her nose at him briefly, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"This isn't just for Akito, is it?" she asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"You brought me back for something bigger than Akito."

"When I left, he came to me for help. And now that I've returned, something has changed. I don't know what it is, but I intend to find out."

"What a roundabout way of doing things," chided Haruhi gently. "Couldn't you listen to me for once and wait for Akito to come back to you?"

"He won't." Kyouya placed a firm kiss at the nape of her neck. "So I will have to help him this way."

Haruhi hummed and returned to her easel. Kyouya quickly dialed Umehito's number, dark eyes shining under the illumination of the rising moon.

"Let's begin."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hello, lovely readers! I am all settled in Taichung, Taiwan, and teaching cute kids at an English language school. I figured now would be a good time to post this chapter. I've got the next chapter written, just in case I end up getting really busy. For now, things are going well-might be another couple of weeks before I post again though. Thanks for your patience!

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	22. Je Suis Un Homme

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** T for cursing. Don't use these in real life, kids. It's bad. :(  
**Written for:** seeeeeriously need to finish this.  
**Dedicated to:** My beautiful readers and reviewers: Aletheotaku, Kayla-Sam7621, DarkRavie, sonata hirano, greetingsfrommaars, mtnikolle, AkilovesKana, and ChidorixCixBritannia. Super special shoutout to Bubblybunny153 - specifically sending Taiwan-vibes to you!  
_Tanaka's girl_ (you don't have an account, so I couldn't send you a PM!) – thank you for your well-wishes and enthusiasm :) I very much appreciate it and what it does for my muses ;)  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...though I feel I'm starting to overstep the boundaries of borrowing their characters...you still can't sue me for that though!

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

_Je suis un seul puis des millions  
__Je suis un homme au coeur de lion  
__A la guerre, en toute saison  
__Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond_

_Je suis un homme plein d'ambitions  
__Belle voiture et belle maison  
__Dans la chambre, dans le salon  
__Moi je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond_

_Je fais l'amour et la révolution  
__Je fais le tour de la question  
__J'avance, avance à reculons  
__Oui je tourne en rond, je tourne en rond_

_Tu vois, j'suis pas un homme  
__Je suis le roi de l'illusion  
__Au fond qu'on me pardonne  
__Je suis le roi, le roi des cons_

("Je suis un homme " by Zazie) * translation in Author's Note

Umehito stopped Kyouya in the hallway of the Suou Corporate Offices. Tamaki had been kind to lend them a conference room. Umehito didn't understand why Kyouya accepted Tamaki's offer rather than having them meet at the O. F. Office or one of his own. Kyouya's would certainly be smaller, but it would have made much more sense. Then again, he never could understand Kyouya's intentions—all he knew was that with every action, there was a reason, and he was not one to question that reason.

"Kyouya." Umehito addressed the younger man with a smile. "Good to see you again."

"Likewise, Umehito." Kyouya's genuine smile was not lost on the occult master.

"And, ah, Ms. Fujioka." Umehito offered her his hand. She took it with a smile. "How nice to see you again as well."

"There's no need to be so formal with us, Nekozawa-senpai." Haruhi's smile was radiant, but Umehito had never before been blinded or felt threatened by her warm glow. With other women, there were times when their beautifully soft inner light coaxed him to take a liking to the light, but there were often times when those lights were set ablaze, and he had to shield himself from them. With Fujioka Haruhi, he was certain that would never happen. She had a beautiful balance between the darkness and the light. It was no wonder Kyouya was so attached to her.

"And yet you still call me 'senpai'. Please, call me Umehito," chuckled Umehito as he led them into the conference room. "Suou-san has been very generous with us. Though he seemed quite skittish to leave the room when I arrived."

He gave them a wink that sent Kyouya chuckling and Haruhi with an affectionate eye roll. As Haruhi and Kyouya went over last minute details of the meeting, Umehito seated himself at the seat immediately left of the head of the conference table. He knew that the seat at the right was Haruhi's.

When Bereznoff woke him up in the morning—daily offerings _must_ be made at the same time every day, no exceptions!—he was assured that the meeting would go smoothly. His precious cat god was never one to make predictions or tell the future, but the fact that Bereznoff went out of his way to tell him did much to ease his mind. After all, this was a risky endeavor on all their parts—it was established years ago that both the Ootori and Asakura Corporations were meant to be at the top, and left alone. There was never a company that possessed the ability to overtake either corporation. Then again, those companies didn't have a brilliant leader like Ootori Kyouya.

Umehito watched the two at the front of the room, only slightly aware that his old classmates, Morinozuka and Haninozuka, had joined them at the table. He wondered if everyone else saw what he saw: when Kyouya was with Haruhi (and vice versa), there was a gentle, but firm, strength; strength that radiated in their eyes and their smiles, and it brightened the room with the glow of starlight. It was the only way he could put that radiance into words. He was never the poetic type (the occult is poetic to a degree, but never with such words of beauty. He was more familiar with the words of horror), but he had no other way to describe how they could be glowing so brightly and, yet, he remained unaffected by such glow; he, who was cursed to detest the light, to reject the light, was unaffected. There was something to be said about that.

The couple's attention was diverted from each other as more people joined them in the conference room; Tamaki slipping into the room, seating himself furthest from him, and he gave a laugh. They were all of the original Host Club members, and a certain fangirl whose name he couldn't remember—but he could remember her laugh. He was surprised she showed up at all, considering she was employed by the Asakura Corporation. Still, Umehito let out a sigh, if Ootori Kyouya saw to it that she was present at the meeting, there must be a very good reason.

"Thank you for being here today," Kyouya's voice was smooth and confident. "Let's begin."

Around went the introductions and the greetings, and then came the explanations. Umehito heard it all before. Kyouya's deep suspicion; his dedication to his brother and his brother's safety; as well as simply just showing up the two largest shareholding companies in Japan. This motive, Umehito was surprised Kyouya had been open enough to say, even garnering a few laughs from his allies—his friends. He was pleased to see that Kyouya had returned to Japan a new, and a better, man.

When Kyouya was dabbling in darkness—an entirely different sort of darkness to Umehito's preference—Umehito was careful to keep it from overshadowing all rational thought. That sort of inky realm was an authoritative voice, however, and Umehito could only keep it at bay for some time before Kyouya sank deep. It was actually the only power greater than Bereznoff's, and it was the power of self-hatred. This self-hatred could be brought up by many things, many instances, and yet carved with such intensity that one cannot ever completely defeat it. They remain fighting it for the rest of their lives—and sometimes it becomes so strong that the person admits defeat and allows themselves to be eaten by it.

The Host Club's intervention was timely. Without them, Umehito wouldn't have been able to call Bereznoff to protect Kyouya. Only during times of the new moon was Bereznoff able to reach the full potential of his power, and Kyouya's spiral was quick. And just as they intervened, Bereznoff came into power and warded off the darkness. He went to Kyouya after a certain period of rehabilitation, and found that Kyouya regained something he never truly had. He seemed whole, and there was a blazing fire in his eyes to do_ something_. And, from the looks of it, he had done it, succeeded, and was now surrounded by love.

"Are there any questions?"

A very calm silence permeated the room. Haruhi and Kyouya had done an astounding job explaining the situation. Although, they really didn't need to go into too much detail. Even had they not given any explanation, Umehito was sure that these people would still do as they were asked.

"Are you hiring me, then?" the fangirl spoke up.

"No," Haruhi said gently. "Not right now."

"But why am I here?"

"Just to draw attention." Kyouya was very careful with his words. It came naturally to him.

"I don't actually have to do anything?"

"You're a witness," Haruhi explained. "You'll be protected, but we'll try to keep you out of any future involvement to make sure that happens."

"That woman _is_ a demon." Umehito heard the girl mutter underneath her breath.

"How long do you think it'll take?" One of the twins. From the hazy aura, Umehito assumed that it was Hikaru.

"Hopefully about two weeks, we can get everything settled."

"That's idealistic."

"True." Umehito saw Kyouya sneak a smile at Haruhi as he spoke. She reciprocated. "But it's just a goal to work towards."

"Just be careful." Haruhi emphasized.

"There's lunch provided in the room next door," Kyouya commented. "Feel free to help yourselves."

Umehito was surprised time passed so quickly. Two and a half hours went by just like that. He lingered behind as he watched Kyouya and Haruhi pack up materials and recap their presentation. Kyouya leaned over, fingers brushing Haruhi cheek as she spoke; her hands idle on the documents in front of her, cheeks turning a very attractive pink color as he leaned down to kiss her. Umehito suddenly looked away, stomach churning, feeling like a child catching his parents doing something he shouldn't have seen. He hurried next door.

* * *

Kyouya waited patiently for two weeks, during which he kept himself occupied with the false Asakura annual reports. He just needed to find the real ones. They weren't stupid enough to keep that file on hand, but they knew very well if they were to remain a proper, functioning corporation, even while stepping foot into the Japanese Black Market, there must be some kind of way to keep those figures and records in check. The best guesses would be either the Asakura CEO or Reiko had it. Considering the CEO's poor health and recent pre-retirement announcement, Kyouya knew that Reiko must have been in charge of all those transactions. After all, how else would Akito have come by them?

However, getting through to Akito to give him that evidence was next to impossible at this stage. He needed to find out what changed Akito's mind, and why. And yet, the answer laid with Reiko.

He was purposely teasing Reiko, taunting her almost. Inviting Renge to that meeting without first consulting Reiko—as he said he would—would render the woman completely paranoid. She would spend all-nighters at her corporation, trying to work out the figures from the annual reports, research Renge's background and pattern styles, until she had a good idea of what he was looking for. Unfortunately for Reiko, he had absolutely no use for Renge, now that she provided him a copy of the annual reports she had written—not that he was ungrateful for the fangirl's willingness to participate and aid in their cause.

Kyouya gazed down at Haruhi who had taken comfort on his chest, her deep breaths tickling at his skin. This image of her made his chest ache with a deep, inexplicable need to pull her closer because he was afraid that something would pull her away. He was still having nightmares, and could never get enough sleep. But instead of Tachibana, he started to see a smaller, more delicate body. Honey-brown hair. And empty brown eyes, staring accusingly into his own. Sometimes there were two bodies hanging there, in that spacious closet.

He shuddered and Haruhi mumbled, pressing her nose into his chest before turning to her other side, facing away from him. There was that deep-rooted fear, and, without thinking, he turned towards Haruhi and pulled her body into his, burying his face in her hair, trying to surround himself with her. Whenever he had that nightmare, he shook himself out of the haze by holding Haruhi. Feeling her near him should have been enough, but it wasn't. He wanted to be completely surrounded by her so that she could help alleviate his fears.

Yes, he will admit that he was being completely nonsensical, but it helped. She helped. But didn't that mean that he was dependent on her?

Just as he knew that Haruhi wouldn't want to depend on him too much, he didn't want to depend on her too much either. It wasn't that she couldn't handle it, but rather they were still individuals, and they should be able to take care of themselves as well. Though, he gave a small bitter laugh, he hadn't been able to take care of himself since he made that grave, grave mistake years ago. He was forgiven, wasn't he?

"You think too much." Haruhi's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Her face appeared over his and she kissed him gently. "One would think you're trying to come up with a cure for the plague."

"If only I were," said Kyouya. "Unfortunately, my thoughts are too self-centered to be of any use to the human race."

Haruhi hummed, settling herself on his chest, head hovering above his and resting on a propped up elbow by his head. He settled his arms around her waist, closing his eyes at the warmth that spread throughout his body.

Kyouya enjoyed these late night chats. They were one of the many things he loved doing with Haruhi because he could open up to her, and she could open up to him. They haven't had these talks in a while.

"I dreamt of Tachibana," said Haruhi, her free hand smoothing his dark locks from his forehead.

Kyouya's arms tensed around her. He swallowed hard. "What happened?"

"Oh, you know," Haruhi murmured absentminded. "The usual. He was at my eighth birthday party. I remember it was my eighth because it was the only party that my father threw where he accidentally invited a stripper clown." Kyouya coughed to cover his laugh. "He was seated in the back with a cute little boy with dark hair and a horrible frown. This little boy was trying to manipulate me into giving him one of my birthday gifts." Haruhi paused, eyes glazing over into the realm of remembrance. "But I wasn't angry. I _wanted_ to give him a present. Tachibana was just there, smiling. When the boy opened it, we both peeked inside, and then I woke up."

"I wonder what it was?" Kyouya smiled at her.

"Does it matter?" Haruhi returned his smile easily as she leaned down to kiss him. "I think that little boy will repay the gift one day."

Kyouya laughed, "It was just a dream, Haru."

"Dreams mean a lot more than you think," said Haruhi as she gazed down at him seriously. "Nightmares too."

"Haru, I am not going to a dream therapist."

"I know," she sighed. "Can't say I didn't try."

Kyouya laughed at the pout on her face and leaned in to kiss her. She smelled sweet—always of strawberries—and he could almost taste it on her lips, her tongue. He lifted his hands to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling her deeper into the kiss. She made a small sound that shot into the depths of his stomach, and he pulled her closer.

Suddenly, a loud pounding of the door, accompanied by frenzied assaults on the doorbell broke them apart.

"Stay here," Kyouya whispered as he slipped on his glasses. He shook his head as Haruhi clambered to follow him out of bed. "Please."

He only saw a glimpse of her hesitation before he left the room. The pounding hadn't stopped, but the doorbell had. Before he reached the door, the shouting started.

"GOD DAMN IT, OOTORI KYOUYA! OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL BREAK IT DOWN, YOU IRRITATING SON OF A BITCH!"

Kyouya slowly unlocked the door and turned the doorknob. He opened his door to see a very familiar fuming face, and Kyouya couldn't help but smirk.

"Hello dear brother," Kyouya said as he easily dodged a punch. Akito was never one for fitness or lightness of steps. "What brings you to my home so late at night?"

He took Akito's pause to examination him. Akito used to be good-looking; he had the trademark Ootori dark locks, a straight nose, and a smile that could pretty much close any deal he wanted. He was probably the friendliest of the Ootori sons and the nosiest when it came to Kyouya's life. He'd never minded though, being closely watched by his second brother, who, like him, came from a family that lacked warmth and love, so he understood his brother's attempts to be caring. Akito also had a habit of being 'healthy', whatever that word meant at the time. When some sort of berry became "the" health product, Akito was the first to buy it. When he read some sort of health article on the internet about how to cleanse some organ of the body, Akito was the first to try it. Whatever the case may be, Akito was obsessed about health and how it was supposed to bring him peace of mind and beautiful, smooth skin that women would envy. (His interest in actual fitness, however, was nearly nonexistent.)

The Akito that now stood on his steps, however, wasn't the meddlesome, health-freak brother he remembered. This man was a broken man—eyes bloodshot and sunken in, skin peeling in places due to dryness, and thin. Too thin. Kyouya had no doubt that had Akito's punch landed, he wouldn't have felt a thing.

Kyouya stepped aside, wordlessly inviting Akito in. Akito hesitated, but then pulled back his shoulders and marched into the apartment.

"Please sit and make yourself comfortable. I'll make some tea. Jasmine all right?"

Akito didn't answer, but Kyouya didn't expect him to. He watched as Akito seated himself on the couch. The man spread his legs and placed an unassuming arm on the back of the seat in attempt to make himself look comfortable and in control. It was a pathetic attempt, as Akito looked more like a teenage boy trying to puff himself up, rather than a man with natural power.

Haruhi left the bedroom, perhaps in curiosity, as it was quiet now. Her eyes landed on Akito and she slipped into the kitchen without a greeting.

"You go on and talk to him," she murmured as she pried the teapot from his hands. "I'll make the tea."

In all honesty, Kyouya didn't want to talk to Akito, but he nodded and returned to the living room.

"Haruhi's making the tea," he said to Akito as he sat on the couch opposite. Akito only nodded. "Why are you here?"

"Stay away from the Asakura Corporation."

This statement was simple. It was direct, and there was no emotion on the man's face. Kyouya's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized his brother's face. He had, in a frenzy, left Japan to find Haruhi to save his brother from heartbreak and possible expulsion from the Ootori name. He had no doubts at the time that Akito was in love with Reiko, but also had not been blinded by the fact that the Asakura Corporation could bring the Ootori Corporation to ruins. But now, looking at the man who had solidified this 'new' Ootori Kyouya, who had shown him care and love that no other Ootori had offered him, Kyouya wondered if he actually knew his brother. He felt a pang of disappointment in his stomach and ignored it.

Haruhi entered the room with a tray of tea and some snacks. She nodded to Akito, who simply acknowledged her with a blink, as she offered the tea to him. She waited patiently for him to stare at it, assess it, and then reach out to take it. Handing Kyouya his own cup, she then seated herself next to him, and remained quiet.

"I'm not anywhere near the Asakura Corporation."

"Then stay away from Reiko."

"Trust me," Kyouya had to hold back a sarcastic laugh. "I am nowhere near her either."

Akito's eyes narrowed. Kyouya noticed he hadn't touched his tea.

"If you're nowhere near her or her corporation," hissed Akito, "then why the hell is my wife never home and always snapping about you when she is?"

"She dislikes me," Kyouya shrugged. "You know that very well."

"Not without reason!"

"When I was recovering," Kyouya's voice was dark and angry, "she forbade you to help me."

"Under father's orders."

"You know very well that Reiko doesn't listen to him. She doesn't even listen to her own father."

"That's beside the point."

"What do you want, Akito?" Kyouya was getting tired. This was a pointless debate. "If you are here to warn me to stay away from the Asakura Corporation, I've received your message."

Akito's eyes strayed over to a silent Haruhi, but said nothing for a long while. They sat in silence. Kyouya knew his brother. There was not a day where he hadn't thought about Akito's stance on the situation. When Akito came to him, Akito was desperate to save Reiko from becoming excessively involved in her father's Black Market schemes. It would make them both unhappy, he had said. And from the looks of the situation, neither one of them seemed happy.

_That's hardly my fault, is it?_ Kyouya thought bitterly to himself.

"Akito," Haruhi's voice was a welcome to the stifling silence. "Surely you understand that we are only trying to help you?"

Akito didn't reply.

"I understand that this is difficult for you," Haruhi continued, not fazed by Akito's icy glare, "but from the looks of things, you and Reiko-san weren't very happy to begin with."

Kyouya could see an invisible arrow of hurt penetrate Akito's chest, and the angry mask his brother had on was slowly crumbling. Haruhi's bluntness hasn't worn out over time. In fact, he was sure that becoming a lawyer made her even blunter than before. He always thought lawyers were good at using flowery language to either confuse or convince. Not Haruhi. She lays it out as it is, and it is strangely effective.

"We were plenty happy," bit out Akito, hands clenched.

"I'm sure." Haruhi seemed to brush off his comment, and Kyouya could see Akito's neck turning red. "I hope you looked through your past wedding photographs. The only ones who seemed delighted with the marriage were you and your father."

Kyouya saw Akito rear up before there was any movement; it was fortunate he did or else he wouldn't have been able to block Akito from lunging at Haruhi, fingers extended in a way to take hold of her throat. As Kyouya—easily—flung Akito back into the couch, he chanced a fleeting glance at her and found her completely unfazed.

"Don't even think about it," Kyouya growled at Akito as the man struggled under the weight of his hand.

Haruhi's back was straight, jaw unclenched, hands in her lap, looking docile, except for her steadily heating gaze. It could be perceived as a glare, but it wasn't malicious; it was curious and calculating.

At this moment, Kyouya realized Haruhi would never need him. How could he have missed that? He knew that she had always been independent, and that would never change, but recalling the past events of several months, there had been absolutely no inkling of her need in him or his presence. And even here, with an enraged Akito, Haruhi hadn't needed him. There was no doubt, that had this situation occurred without his presence, Akito wouldn't have been able to reach her with those soft, kind eyes.

He was never one to focus on, or care about, masculine and feminine roles in a relationship. Then again, he'd never felt so emasculated before now. His own weakness, struggling against Tachibana's death, his guilt, had never seemed so petty. And yet, he couldn't help himself feeling the way he does. It was a vicious mind over heart type of matter.

"Akito, go home," said Haruhi. "Be with your wife."

"She doesn't want to be near me."

Kyouya felt something crack behind his fingers, and found Akito hiding his head into his hands. Anger subsided, and he could now feel a violent torrent of helplessness rushing through his brother's body.

"Would you like to stay the night?" Kyouya was surprised his voice sounded as smooth and careful as usual.

Akito shook his head, but made no indication that he was leaving.

"You are most welcome to," Haruhi said. There was kindness in her voice, acceptance in her eyes, and Akito had only given the barest of nods before she whisked him off to the guest bedroom.

Kyouya leaned against the back of the couch. It was a chore trying to keep his mind quiet and from wandering down dark places where it ought not to be. That sudden revelation left him tired, and left him wondering if he had anything to offer Haruhi as a life-partner. No one should be cursed with someone who offers him or her nothing. It was painful in the long run and unfair in exchange. There were advantages and disadvantages to every situation in the life of Ootori Kyouya, but for the first time, he realized that others have them too. Life wasn't about finding the pros and cons to your own situation—it's about being the pro to someone else's situation.

He felt Haruhi's touch and gazed down at her worried face. How often has he seen that face, and why was it always on his account?

"Are you alright?"

Constant worry about him. He was starting to wonder what she saw in him.

"Haru." His fingers brushed against her cheek. "I'm sorry for always making you worry."

"What are you saying?" Haruhi gave a small laugh. "That's what people in relationships do. We look out for each other, comfort each other, and love each other."

He pulled her into his arms, "Sometimes I wonder if I deserve someone like you."

Haruhi said nothing for a moment as she buried her face into his chest, hands gripping at his back.

"Just don't leave me again, okay?" Her voice was low, but he heard every word.

"I promise."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I finished this while I was laying in bed at 6 in the morning due to being ill and having slept at least half of the previous day away. It's no excuse for shoddy writing, but I hope that you won't think less of me. :P Seems like I update around every 10 days. Since I've been ill as of late, the next installment of this piece might take me longer. Thank you all for your support and your patience!

By the way, here is the English translation for the French song "Je suis un Homme" by Zazie, for those of you interested in the French lyrics up at the top. It's currently my favorite song. :) "Je suis un Homme" means "I am a man":

"I am only one, then millions  
I am a man with a brave heart  
In wars in all seasons  
I go round in circles, round in circles

I am a man with much ambition  
a nice car and nice house  
with a bedroom, and a living room  
I go round in circles, round in circles

I make love and the revolution  
I have thought things over  
I go forth, go forth backwards  
Yes, I go round in circles, round in circles

You see, I'm not a man  
I am the king of illusion  
After all I can be forgiven,  
I am the king, the king of fools"

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	23. Paradise

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** T. Language. Sorry. Bad words. Use sparingly!  
**Written for:** those of you searching for your own little KyouyaxHaruhi romance. Hey, you never know, it might happen some day ;)  
**Dedicated to:** My readers and reviewers, as always! Most of my reviewers received my response to their respective reviews, so I won't get into too much detail about how much I love you all individually! Shoutouts to: DarkRavie, Alejandra (Aletheotaku), xKireyy, AkilovesKana, Kayla-Sam7621, BubblyBunny153, and last, but not least, greetingsfrommaars with your lovely, long, elaborate reviews that make me smile! Oh, and I'm so grateful to those of you (Kayla-Sam7621 and greetingsfrommaars) for listening to "Je Suis Un Homme"!  
**Warning:** Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...hey, at least I'm honest!

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

_When she was just a girl_

_She expected the world_

_But it flew away from her reach_

_and the bullets catch in her teeth_

_Life goes on, it gets so heavy_

_The wheel breaks the butterfly_

_Every tear a waterfall_

_In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes_

_In the night the stormy night away she'd fly__  
_("Paradise " by Coldplay)

Haruhi stood at the temporary O.F. Offices, gazing up at its gold letters. Akito returned home after a few days at their apartment. Kyouya seemed to have talked Akito into believing that there was no harm to the Asakura Corporation, even despite their meddling, but Haruhi couldn't see how that was possible. A large portion of the Corporation money came through their Black Market transactions—there were illegal dealings of drugs and organ trading and selling under their name. To expose and cease these activities would take out a large portion of the Asakura revenue. There was absolutely no way that the corporation would not be affected.

She sighed as she pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. It was getting breezy. She forgot how cold autumn was in Tokyo. In California, it never dropped too far below the 50s (in Fahrenheit—she had to mentally calculate it back into Celsius but decided it wasn't worth the time.) She was beginning to miss it. Somehow she had been dragged (no, not dragged—persuaded in the most respectful way) back to Japan without any true pretense of what she was getting herself into. She knew that Kyouya didn't possess it in him to hurt anyone intentionally, but after Akito's visit, she wondered if their meddling would pay a much higher price than she wanted.

"Standing out in the cold?" a deep voice spoke behind her. "Perhaps we should both head inside before we catch any illnesses."

"Nekozawa-senpai."

"Come." His touch was warm and familiar, and Haruhi relented as he escorted her up the stairs and into the warm lobby. He veered her towards the small cafe in the back corner. "How about some coffee to warm us up? Or would you prefer something else?"

"Hot chocolate would be nice. Thank you."

As Nekozawa spoke to the waiter, Haruhi placed her briefcase on the ground, rubbing her hands. She'd always liked Nekozawa. And even though he insisted that she called him by his name, she felt too unfamiliar to do that just yet.

"Was something bothering you?" His blue eyes shone under the chandelier light. She noticed that he was still wearing the heavy black coat, but underneath was a smart, black suit, fit for an executive.

"Why would you say that?" Haruhi asked before she thanked the waiter who returned with their drinks. She savored the warmth of the cup in her hands before taking a sip.

"No one can blank out in the cold for that long without having something weighing on their minds." Nekozawa took a sip of his coffee. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Haruhi wasn't sure it was wise to talk to Kyouya's closest business partner about her own apprehensions of their business dealing, especially since Kyouya was someone she loved dearly. The idea of one of the closest people to Ootori Kyouya was questioning his motives—it was blasphemy. But she knew Nekozawa-senpai; a very large part of her knew that their conversation would be kept in confidence.

"Do you trust Kyouya, Nekozawa-senpai?"

"Yes," the man answered without hesitation. "Completely."

"Why?"

"Is it in our place to judge how he handles his matters as long as we know the man himself? The man is clever and kind—how he does business reflects on that. I have complete faith in Ootori Kyouya because he has complete faith in my loyalty, and in me. He is not one to share all of his plans, and it can be irking, yes, but if it's a part of the plan, then so be it."

"But surely," Haruhi pressed on further, "surely you've run through the pros and cons of the situation and have realized how risky this matter is."

"Of course." Nekozawa's voice never wavered. "But he sees things the normal man cannot. We can't see past logic. The logic and the clear path are there. It seems a hopeless case, I'll admit, but he sees far beyond that. He sees more possibilities, the possibilities that defy logic and, yet, still attribute to the unpredictability of human nature. That's Ootori Kyouya's power in the business world. He can see factors we can't. And sometimes, he creates miracles, but rarely shares it with us until it happens."

"Miracles?" Haruhi wrinkled her nose at Nekozawa's flowery description.

Nekozawa laughed, a deep twinkling sound emitting from his throat, one that almost reminded her of Santa Claus, "My dear Haruhi, my apologies. When I say miracles, I mean that he has something up his sleeve. Let's paint this picture then." Nekozawa pulled out a notepad and pen from his cloak. It was a wonder he needed a briefcase at all. She did notice that he was rather old-fashioned; he wasn't using any of the new technological gadgets that the twins had. He began to draw squares and labeled them. "This is the Asakura Corporation and their dealings with the Black Market." He drew a line connecting the two squares, and on this line, he wrote a number. "Over 60% of their profits come from that Black Market. Now,"—he drew a line from the Asakura Corporation to the Ootori Corporation—"the Asakura Corporation really isn't gaining anything from merging with the Ootori Corporation. If anything, they're losing more than they're gaining, trying to keep the Ootori Corporation afloat. Now let's calculate what will happen if the Asakura Corporation's dealings with the Black Market surfaces. Their deals will be cut significantly; their flimsy stocks will crash; and both the Asakura and Ootori Corporations will be in financial hell."

"Which is what I'm getting at," Haruhi sighed as she placed a hand at her forehead. "From what I know of Kyouya's plans, that's exactly what he's intending to do."

"But don't forget,"—Nekozawa drew a separate box with Akito's name on it—"Kyouya loves his brother dearly. This financial bust will bring Akito nothing but pain, shame, and relentless hatred. Kyouya would not risk something like that."

"So he'll need something that can sustain both companies—more than the Black Market can." Haruhi's eyes widened.

"Exactly," Nekozawa finished in flourish. "But what that solution is, we don't know yet. That doesn't mean that he's not working on it as we speak."

"Or perhaps that it is finished already." The silky voice of Ootori Kyouya carried over to them, and Haruhi found herself blushing darkly. Caught red-handed, doubting Kyouya. She didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or ashamed. Perhaps it was both, knotted into her stomach. "May I join you?"

Haruhi had never once been unsurprised by Kyouya's manners and courtesy. Even in his own company, he asked to join them, rather than assume that he could. She wondered if she would be able to do that one day. The rich really do live in a different world than commoners.

"Of course, Kyouya." Nekozawa removed the notepad and gestured towards the empty seat.

"I asked you to come today, Umehito," Kyouya started, not gazing at Haruhi. She would have felt even more ashamed had his hand not found hers under the table, "because I've finalized the deal overseas."

"It's finished then?"

"Just now." Kyouya's smile was contagious. "They should be ready to sign with the Asakura and Ootori Corporations whenever they're ready."

"That's the difficult part then," Nekozawa sounded thoughtful. "Getting those two corporations to admit to financial aid across the waters will ruin their pride."

"Not if we sell it right," Haruhi spoke up. She smiled at them brightly. "It shouldn't be much of an issue with the Ootori Corporation. The only problem I foresee would be the Asakura Corporation. I'm assuming that you will be asking them to pull out of the Black Market in order to sign this deal, Kyouya?"

"Yes." Kyouya's eyes darkened, but an amused smile remained on his lips. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. "It would be easy were Reiko more willing to put aside our differences to solidify her company's dealings without the use of illegal marketing."

"We do have to take into account, of course, of her unwillingness to sign deals with companies abroad," Nekozawa added, finishing off his coffee. "It is a bit risky, having to give up a more concrete financial back-up for something that is uncertain. And the Black Market is not easy to pull out of."

"I've got that aspect taken care of."

Haruhi shivered at the tone of Kyouya's voice.

"And how will you propose this to them?"

"They would be unwilling to meet with me directly." Kyouya let out a sigh and released Haruhi's hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. "Or you, Umehito."

"None of the Host Club's companies will do either," Haruhi said thoughtfully. A lightbulb struck. "Except..."

Kyouya grinned suddenly along with her.

"But about...?"

"Oh, Renge won't be a part of it," Kyouya reassured her. "Someone much higher will."

"Can you get him to agree?" Nekozawa sounded skeptical.

"I can most certainly try."

"Remember who you're playing against, Kyouya," warned Nekozawa. "He's far too close to your father. How can you be so sure that he will work alongside you?"

"Reynard Houshakuji is not a blind man. He will see the benefits for his own company once the Ootori Corporation is back on its feet. He will help us with convincing the Asakura Corporation."

"He is also fiercely loyal to your father," pointed out Nekozawa. "There's a reason he is one of the few business partners who have not given up on the Ootori Corporation yet."

"That is not a concern," reassured Kyouya. "I will arrange a meeting with him."

"I will be present, of course."

Haruhi could sense Nekozawa's insistence.

"If you see it fit, Umehito."

Haruhi was mildly surprised, again, at Kyouya's courtesy towards their senior. He had never been one to bow down to another's request before, unless it was superbly in his favor. She could not see how Nekozawa's presence at this meeting would be in his favor. But, she resigned to the idea that she will never fully understand the way Ootori Kyouya's brain works in these matters.

"If you'll excuse me," Nekozawa spoke as he stood, "I have another business matter to attend to. I trust you'll inform me of the meeting date with Houshakuji?"

"Certainly."

They bid their goodbyes with a warm handshake, and Haruhi watched as Kyouya slid back into the seat next to hers, looking exhausted. He hadn't been sleeping well.

"Perhaps you should take a break?" suggested Haruhi gently. "You left awfully early this morning."

"Time difference." His voice was gruff and he cleared his throat. "Ended up sleeping in my office for a bit. Generally conferences like that are earlier for them, but they were understanding."

Haruhi gripped his hand tightly in hers.

"Are you angry?" She was almost afraid to ask.

"What for?"

"My doubting you."

"My dearest Haru," Kyouya gave a short laugh, "I could never blame you for doubting me. I'm shrewd in this business—I know. I understand. As long as you don't doubt my nature or my feelings, Haru, I could never be angry with you."

Haruhi was contemplative for a moment, "Then do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Of course not."

"Why the mind games with Reiko?"

"I do only what is necessary to ensure that we have the desired results."

"And what are those results?"

"Peace," said Kyouya as he smiled. "At least for Akito."

* * *

Reiko threw a pillow on the couch, punched at it viciously before burying her head into it and screaming until she could feel sandpaper scratching at her vocal cords. Her face heated up, pressed up against the silk pillow, and she had to peel it away from her face to breathe.

That damn Ootori Kyouya again.

She should have known that he was going to be trouble the moment she set eyes on him when the Ootoris and Asakuras first met. He was persistent and cool. He could never allow his glassy exterior to be cracked, and he was easy to read. He was like a clean window. She could see the other side of it very clearly. But she also should have seen that the window was actually a one-way mirror and was prone to play tricks on her.

The door opened, and she shot her eyes in the general direction of the sound.

It must be Akito.

He hadn't been home for days, and it only angered her. It angered her and it set her entire logical mind on fire. She was just as calculating as the Ootori sons, if not more, but it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to deduce that he was with his brother.

"Where have you been?"

Akito paused at her voice, and she gazed up at him firmly.

"Out."

"Obviously," she hissed. "That wasn't the question."

"I was at Kyouya's." This frankness irritated her. "Brother-bonding. You understand."

She was an only child. She knew that he was using this to bait her. She wouldn't, regardless of how that fury bubbled up in her stomach.

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"And you couldn't bother to call."

"Not that you would have picked up."

It enraged her, this resolve. He had always been the spineless one out of the three brothers—that's why she made him her target. The companies needed to merge, but she had her choice. She wouldn't call herself a sadist. She saw things as they were. Complex and difficult, and whichever would be the easiest, simplest path would be the chosen path. Akito was the easiest one. He bowed his head to her, as if she were his mistress, and allowed her to run the Asakura Corporation the way she liked. She couldn't care about the Ootori Corporation, but since it had been her father's avid concern, she took it on anyway. She had the spineless one in her home, and she had the eldest in the palm of her hand, as the Asakura Corporation controlled a large majority of the business' shares.

It was the damn black sheep!

Akito let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. She must admit, several days at his brother's and he looked like a completely different man. He didn't even look like the man that she sought out to marry.

What did that asshole do to him?

Her eyes narrowed at him, "Is there a problem?"

"None. You should get some sleep."

"I don't need it."

"Then don't."

She snapped. She told herself she wouldn't. It wouldn't benefit her at all if she allowed her emotions to overtake her judgment. She was taught this from day one. She shouldn't ever let something as fickle as emotion cloud a conscious mind. Because of her, the Asakura Corporation became what it was today. It had never been her father; her weak father who allowed emotions to bring a beautiful company to ruins.

But this was it. The rumors were there, and from reliable sources. Everything she fought for and everything that she understood were crumbling at her feet. And her last hope, her last stable understanding of the universe, stood in front of her, a completely different man.

"Get out." Her fists clenched at her sides.

"No."

He had the gall to flat out refuse.

"Then I'll make sure you do."

She knew she sounded calm—her facade was not as easy to break as her inner turmoil. It was unleashed, roaring fire, hatred, and anger, burning her veins, her flesh. She could suddenly understand why the cartoon books that she read as a child drew angry characters as if they burned up and were consumed by fire, because that was what she felt now. There was a torrent of onrushing hot anger that was cracking her ice exterior; she knew it, and she knew she couldn't hold it back.

"Your mask is slipping, my dear."

Her eyes finally made contact with his, and in that split second, the animalistic urge forced her body to lunge at him. He moved, swiftly, out of her way, pivoted, and wrapped his arms around her.

"Don't touch me!" She clawed at his hands, enough to feel skin peeling beneath her fingernails. He hissed and let go, stepping back to survey his hands.

"Always knew you were a catty one." His dark eyes turned to her and raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not leaving you like this, Rei."

"Don't you dare use that name," she hissed. She was seeing red spots.

Akito sighed, "Can't we stop playing this game? You're exhausted. If it will make you comfortable, I'll sleep on the couch. But I'm not leaving you alone in this house."

"You did the past few days."

"And I'm sorry. It was necessary."

"Necessary?" she laughed. "What excuses have your darling little brother cooked up now?"

"It wasn't him. It's never been him."

"What are you talking about? He's always the one manipulating, the one plotting, the one tearing others to pieces so that he can rise above all."

"Stop." Akito put out a hand. "It hasn't ever been him."

Reiko was starting to feel curiosity put out her fury. A dreaded type of curiosity that she had been missing something, that her world really was just an imagination. And her gut told her that it rested in this stranger's hands.

"He's good, I'll give him that," Akito grinned, "but he was never the type to focus solely on profit. It was a high priority, but he's ethical. Especially with the Fujioka girl, he's gotten even softer."

"What," she clenched her teeth, "are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Akito breathed as he stepped in close, "that it was never Ootori Kyouya bringing down the Asakura Corporation."

Reiko's heart stopped.

He smiled at her, "It was me."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Posted for the Year of the Snake! Happy Chinese New Year, everyone! I hope your new year is filled with happiness, fortune, and health. For those fellow Snakes, it's our year, so let's make the best of it ;)

The one-way mirror also known as "two-way mirror, three-way mirror, one-way glass, and two-way glass"—there is a reason I decided to go with "one-way mirror" rather than the others.

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	24. Send Me To the Moon

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi

**Rating: **T for very mean language. Darn those potty-mouthed characters of mine!

**Written for:** sanity. Or what's left of it after my computer crashed and erased this chapter from my computer completely. This is the 'rewrite'.

**Dedicated to:** My regular reviewers. Without you guys, I wouldn't write as well, or as much, as I originally planned: Bubblybunny153, mtnikolle, DarkRavie, xKireyy, greetingsfrommaars, and AkilovesKana. You are all absolutely amazing at making this author flustered and all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Even my zombie kitties are tamed by your abilities to make me all snuggly.

_Tanaka's girl:_ haha, yes, cruel, but that's why you lovely readers love me so much, right? Too many tricks and twists up my sleeve, and you just can't look away!

**Warning:** Beware of OOCness. Not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...I only own the story, Reiko, and my zombie kittens.

**Endless Story**

A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

_Darkness to light_

_Moved from day into nigh to be near you_

_Still here I stand_

_I am sinking like sand in your sea_

_Sweet sun_

_Send me the moon_

_Empty the skies out_

_Bringing me one step closer to you_

_Send it soon_

_And I will breathe in, breathe out_

_Until you come in and out_

_Of view_

_Of view_

("Send Me the Moon" by Sara Bareilles)

He was angry. She could see that much as his fingers tightened around his cell phone, his eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed. She could hear Tamaki's panicked voice, though she couldn't make out the words.

They were having dinner out on the veranda. It was a simple dinner—Chinese vegetables and rice. They had already finished eating, and he had been holding her hand as she discussed the painting she just started. She was actually flustered when he inquired after it; she thought that since it's been so busy lately, he hadn't taken notice. But he did, and they cooked dinner together for a quiet evening at home. She was starting to think that they wouldn't be able to do that as the weeks carried on because it was starting to get chilly outside. And somehow, she felt melancholic, knowing they won't be able to enjoy themselves on the dimly lit veranda anymore.

Kyouya hung up, and Haruhi waited for a moment for him to collect his thoughts. When he was silent for a long moment and gave no indication that he would be speaking, Haruhi touched his hand.

"What happened?"

"He's clever," was all he could muster before she could see his mind sinking deeper into that part of him where she couldn't reach. "Almost a mastermind."

Haruhi doubted that Kyouya would give such praise to Yuuichi, considering their unstable sibling relationship was currently only hanging by a thread. Though she couldn't imagine who he would be talking about, this person was upsetting all of their articulate, immaculate plans for the Asakura and Ootori Corporations. But who could it be?

"Akito," Kyouya suddenly spoke up, dark granite eyes flashing in frustration, intrigue, and determination. Haruhi wasn't aware that she had been speaking her thoughts.

"Akito?" repeated Haruhi. "A mastermind?" The thought almost made her laugh. "That can't be possible. He's always been so constant and…" she trailed off.

Yes, Akito had been the constant of the Ootori family. Even Yuuichi, the least likable of the three siblings—in her commoner eyes, anyway—underwent a current of changes. He and Kyouya both; though the two ended up heading in opposite directions. Akito, on the other hand, was always painfully distant and always unswerving. She never suspected him to have a malicious, selfish bone in his body.

Perfect for a mastermind, her inner lawyer reprimanded her. He flies just under the radar.

She gazed over at Kyouya to find his head in his hands, as if trying to block out anything that was not in relation to Akito and the future of the companies he had been trying to save from the beginning. In all honesty, she was surprised that he wasn't enjoying himself. A new, risky challenge has been presented to him, and he hadn't moved to snatch it up yet. Or at least see it in a new light.

They washed the dishes together, as they always did, but Kyouya was painfully silent. This was a tense silence that could crack those glaciers in the Arctic. He disappeared into his office when they were finished.

Haruhi moved out onto the veranda again, this time bringing a light jacket with her. She was going to enjoy the last days out on the veranda before she had to move her easel inside. And yet, she stared blankly at the white circle in the middle of the painting, hands stuffed in her pockets.

She could only imagine Reiko's reaction upon discovering her husband's bitter, and silent, revenge. Anger? Hatred? Complete shock? A mixture of those things? She knew that Reiko had never been very happy with Akito; that there was a possibility that Akito had experienced Reiko's critical eye, not having met her high standards. The marriage was simply to join two hard-headed companies on neutral terms. Haruhi gave a laugh, thinking that it reminded her of some crack-headed fairytale that required such a blatant and unhappy solution for two innocent people caught in the political crossfire. It was a relationship empty, shallow, and nothing less of broken.

It was hard to imagine then, if Akito had planned it this way. If he had, he would have started planning ages ago—what would have been his motivation? This wasn't just a random plot; this was a personal vendetta. It was too laid out, too patiently carried out, for it to be anything less. But, Haruhi thought as she chewed the end of her paintbrush, motivations can change as well. Perhaps it started off as a random plot to raise the Ootori Corporation above the Asakura Corporation, and after the marriage, Akito began to focus his attentions on his disapproving, emotionally distant, and equally manipulative wife. There is nothing worse than being looked down upon; and this offense is worsened when the person is his wife.

Still, Haruhi's eyebrows furrowed, that couldn't have been enough of an incentive for him to be so vindictive in his methods. She was actually surprised that Yuuichi remained silent. She was aware that this would be a shock to him as well. Why has he…?

Against her better judgment, Haruhi's mind wandered towards a very common, albeit a bit immature, motivation which works wonders against time and rational judgment. She wouldn't put it past any of them to fall victim to such irrational motivation. After all, they, too, were human, even despite their strong willpower to deny any such truths, and all humans fall when Love was involved. She did, didn't she? Luckily, Love led her to someone who was as touched as she was, who was as rational (but not emotionless) as she was. Others were not as lucky.

But how would any of that play out? She didn't know any of Kyouya's siblings well enough, and Reiko was every bit a mystery to her. They constructed walls the size and strength of the Great Wall, and she didn't have the tools to climb over them.

And yet she was sure that she knew of Reiko well enough to know that her husband's betrayal was one that would cut deep. Perhaps that's exactly what he was waiting for.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she wondered if there was any point to trying to figure out the human dynamics of these complex beings when it was unclear what Akito's plans were. Knowing their motivation is one thing, but it was hardly helpful to their situation. If anything, motivation was used to help them understand their actions, and perhaps even to sympathize, but that's not what she needed to do at the moment.

Giving up on doing any proper painting, Haruhi headed back inside. She stopped outside of Kyouya's office, ears pressed gently against the door. There was no sound, not even the click-clacking of busy fingers on the keyboard. She pushed the door open and as her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, she could only barely make out the figure seated on the chair in the far corner. She slipped inside, careful not to disturb his thoughts. As she walked closer, she could see the outline of Kyouya's body, slack in defeat. In his hand was a glass of bourbon; the other rubbed at his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

"Kyouya," Haruhi said as she seated herself at his legs, plucking the near-empty glass from his hand. "How many have you had?"

"A few, but not enough to do the job."

"You don't need alcohol," she said firmly. "You know that it's not your fault."

"I didn't notice, Haruhi," Kyouya sounded angry, "I didn't notice anything. Now thousands of workers will be out of a job—the corporations will collapse, and it's my fault for not noticing anything."

"Nobody noticed. Nobody knew." Haruhi squeezed his hand. "You are not at fault for not noticing."

"I can't fix this, Haru."

"You're not meant to," Haruhi kissed his palm gently. "Some things are better off left the way they are."

"I can't let them collapse. Even if I tried to relocate them; even if I ask for everyone's help, we'll have trouble regardless. Not doing anything would be worse."

"Kyouya," Haruhi said firmly as she held his hands and knelt to kiss him on the cheek, "there is a difference between doing your best to help them just to help and helping them because you're blaming yourself for their misfortunes. Help them out of your good intentions. Do not think that you need to help them due to any shortcomings. Everything will be fine."

He let out a sigh, but managed a weary smile. It was times like these she wondered if she was too blunt and felt ashamed for speaking without thinking. She could have said that better.

"What I mean to say," Haruhi began again, but Kyouya raised a hand to stop her.

"I understand." His smile was not reassuring. "There's just a part of me that can't accept it."

She didn't know why, but she felt a swell of but frustration and pride within her. Frustrated that he couldn't see that he could never fully control anything, but proud because this was the first time she heard him say that there was something that he couldn't accept, even when it came from her. He was never the type of person to disagree with her—she had been spoiled along the way—but he had never blatantly told her that he disagreed either.

"It's not impossible, Haru. I've figured out more vexing situations before."

"I know," she sighed. "Don't let it bother you, and the answers will come."

Kyouya gave a laugh. It was more of a chuckle, but it was sincere.

"Let's go to bed," Kyouya suggested as he stood. He held out his hand to her, and she stood. She wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked out of his study and leaned into his warm body. It was a familiar feeling, one that reminded her of the closeness of this man, and the warmth of his heart.

It was comforting.

* * *

Ootori Yuuichi sat at his desk in the darkened mansion, eyes intent on his computer. He wasn't seeing anything. He had been sitting here the past two hours, staring blankly at his computer screen, eyes scanning the same lines over and over until he was sure that he had it all memorized.

Shit, he thought as he leaned back in his office chair. He ripped the glasses off his face and rubbed at his eyes with such violence, he could have been trying to push his eyeballs into his head and consequently merge them with his brain.

There were no doubts in his head. Kyouya and Akito were working together. They had to have been. Who else would come up with such elaborate plans to challenge him as the Ootori heir? He and Kyouya were always going head to head, and he knew of Kyouya's distaste towards himself, their father, and the company. And those irritating little brothers of his were always close—it was not unlike them to band together even out of the house. He knew Akito. Akito didn't have the smarts, confidence, experience, and suave to pull anything like this off. Anything of such epic proportions, anyway.

Also, Yuuichi very much doubted that Akito would do anything to ruin the delicate balance of his marriage with Asakura Reiko. He knew of his brother's attachments to the powerful heiress of the Asakura Corporation. That boy always did. And it didn't take him long to snatch up the opportunity to marry her and become a critical part of their father's chess game. And now, Yuuichi clenched his fists until his well-manicure nails were biting into his palm, he was willingly playing in that chess game between Kyouya and their father. What was most infuriating, was that Kyouya was playing against their father, himself, and Reiko—how could Akito live with himself, betraying those that he was supposed to hold dear?

Then again, it wasn't as if he and Reiko had conducted themselves well either.

Yuuichi groaned as he pushed away from his desk and stood to pace. He discovered his hatred for Akito. There was a part of him that was giddy. Giddy that Akito was fucking up all of Reiko's plans. There was no way now that Reiko would want to stay with him. And the Ootori Corporation would still be saved if she was willing to return to him, where she belonged.

It wasn't known to anyone, really, that he and Reiko were seeing each other during their high school days. It was a very well-kept secret. At the time, the Ootori and Asakura Corporations were heated rivals. It was a regular Romeo and Juliet story—except set in Japan, and the two protagonists weren't stupid enough to fall in love and sacrifice their lives for each other within a matter of a few days.

In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. He was far too hard-headed at the time for Reiko to choose as a suitable "business" partner. She had just been named heiress, and having that power being relinquished by her future husband was an unthinkable thought. He understood her reasoning, but it doesn't mean he had ever forgiven her for it.

Akito was his polar opposite. Younger, yes, but calm, rational, and a pushover. Akito's style had always been to do what the other person says. His own opinion is either nonexistent or never good enough to voice. And even if it were good enough, it was lost in obscurity when someone outtalks him. He lacked self-confidence, and he will forever be that sniveling little brother who stole the one person who could understand him.

And Kyouya was just a pain in the ass. Always had been. Always off to prove himself when he should have known his place at the bottom of the hierarchy. But Yuuichi had to admit that he admired Kyouya's candor and determination. Had he been in Kyouya's situation, he would have done the exact same thing. It was just infuriating when the Corporation had been handed to him, given to him, and he refused it. Who else to get the leftovers but the eldest brother? It was just another reminder that Yuuichi was the second string. It will never be as good as earning the first string by pure will and determination, rather than forfeit.

He downed a glass of whiskey and slammed it on the table, feeling the warmth rush through his blood and into his head, burning his eyes briefly. What was he going to do now? How could he possibly explain to his father that the youngest Ootori was using the second Ootori to ruin the Asakura and the Ootori Corporations with just one sweep of his arm? And why hadn't Reiko called? Everything between them had been over, but surely, surely, this was important enough to discuss with him? Surely?

He wanted to call her. See if everything was all right. They had to be. She was strong. She would have thrown Akito out of the house. Does she know? Surely she knew about this. This was too obvious for her not to notice. Why hasn't she called? Had they locked her up somewhere so that he couldn't get to her? How is Akito keeping her under tabs with that soft little personality of his? Why was that little twerp the one to marry the one person Yuuichi could respect and love? Why do his little brothers take everything from him? He had been the one who was born first, wouldn't that entitle him to something? It wasn't as if he didn't work hard for that shit!

The computer made a little bell sound, and Yuuichi sat down to open the new email.

After a moment, he stood and could feel himself sobering up. He hesitated, but sat back down and returned the email to confirm a meeting time.

Being angry wasn't going to solve anything, he decided. Perhaps meeting Kyouya was the best way for him to get answers.

But that didn't mean he didn't have a punch planned for that meddling little brother of his.

He didn't know what to expect.

He will just have to look forward to the meeting on Friday.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry for the long wait. I had this chapter written (and the next chapter started) when my computer crashed and I lost all of my files and everything. Including my novel, which I cried over—I'm not ashamed to admit that. Anyway, I had to remotivate myself to rewrite this chapter, and it took longer than I thought. Thanks for being so patient!

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	25. Always and Forever

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG-13 – for some violence. Violence is bad, kiddos!  
**Written for:** Solace. And the pure ecstasy of getting my paycheck! Whoohoo! Sometimes, money really does make the world go 'round, especially when one's destitute. I worked hard these past couple of months!  
**Dedicated to:** Destinies Entwined, Chico and Maya, Aletheotaku, DarkRavie, xKireyy, mtnikolle, BubblyBunny153, irgroomer, greetingsfrommaars, and AkilovesKana. This chapter is especially dedicated to Aletheotaku to congratulate her for braving the initial "should I or should I not?" question for posting a first piece of fiction on the Internet for the world to see, and to welcome her into the world of fanfiction writers.

_Tanaka's Girl:_ Thanks for your encouraging words! Hopefully I'm genius enough to write something better for my novel after losing it.  
**Warning:** Beware of OOCness. Not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...and I'm sure they're sick of me taking their characters and running with them in the wind, but they've got to admit, the real world needs some spicin' up!

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twenty-five:**

_Everyday love me your own special way_

_Melt all my heart away with a smile_

_Take time to tell me you really care_

_And we'll share tomorrow together_

_I'll always love you forever, forever _

("Always and Forever" by Heatwave)

Kyouya sat across from his eldest brother, both engulfed in angry, bitter silence. They had been sitting here for the past twenty minutes, glaring into space and refusing to speak. Even when Yuuichi walked through the door of the coffee shop that Haruhi liked to frequent, they said not one word to each other. While he wasn't aware of the reason of his brother's grinding silence, Kyouya was aware of his own.

Seeing that scowl of distaste and that disagreeable face, Kyouya could feel himself becoming defensive and irritated that his brother has already decided on a verdict, and that verdict did not shine upon himself lightly. They've never liked each other. Kyouya, young and determined, was angry because it seemed that their high-society favored the eldest more than ability. And so, young, determined, and indeterminately foolish and hard-headed, Kyouya made Yuuichi his rival. After all, if he could overcome Yuuichi, didn't that mean that he had pushed past their society's expectations and overcame all original beliefs that the eldest was undoubtedly the most capable? If he could do that, and succeed, he could inspire all other younger siblings to rise and take what was equally, rightfully, theirs.

He caught Haruhi's eyes from across the café and she shot him a glare, then flicked her eyes over to the back of Yuuichi's head. She gave him a nudging look and then a warm open smile. He looked away, partially wishing she wasn't so encouraging. He was lucky that Tamaki, Mori, and Hani (the twins were in Italy for a fashion run) were there to distract her from pushing him to talk to Yuuichi in her usual blunt manner. He was sure that if she had things her way, she would be facilitating this talk. Though, he had to admit, were Haruhi to interfere (he knew that she wouldn't), they'd actually be getting somewhere.

"You invited me here to talk," Yuuichi finally hissed. "Do not waste my time."

Kyouya let out a deep breath. It's been a long time since they've talked. He had forgotten how irritatingly similar Yuuichi was to their father. The only difference between the two was that Kyouya couldn't punch their father.

"It has come to my attention," Kyouya said slowly, "that Akito has been mussing up some of our hard work."

Yuuichi snorted in that obnoxious, overdramatic way. He said, with his eyes narrowed, "I assure you that_ your _hard work has not gone unnoticed."

And there it was. The blame. The malicious finger pointing. The destructive stubborn-headedness of the Ootori family was rearing its head. And it hasn't even been a proper five minutes since they've started talking. What an ugly head the Ootori mascot had.

"This is why I contacted you." Kyouya was attempting to watch his temper. "I had nothing to do with this. What Akito is doing is counterproductive to what I have been doing the past five years."

"Ruining the Ootori Corporation has always been your claim, Ootori Kyouya. Using pretty little words to attempt to convince me otherwise shows what a fool you've been to the Ootori name."

"Allow me to restate, big brother," Kyouya gritted his teeth, "that my supposed involvement with Akito's work is only in your overinflated head."

At the corner of his eye, he could see Haruhi's head snap up to look at him. This woman either had extremely sensitive hearing or her timing was impeccable.

"You expect me to believe that a soft-spined little twerp like Akito could pull something like this off? You must be joking."

"The fact that you can't even consider that possibility shows your limited perspective of human nature. How do you expect to get anything done in society if you can't even see past your preconceived prejudices? Isn't it possible that Akito has always been this way?"

"Of course it isn't," Yuuichi gritted out now. "We both grew up with Akito. He's never given us any cause for concern."

It was true, Kyouya mused as he scrutinized Yuuichi's hard eyes. Akito had never been a cause for concern. However, Akito was an Ootori. They've underestimated him, forgotten about him almost, and that would be their downfall. If Kyouya had the capacity to put aside prejudices and wounded pride, he would even say that Akito was brilliant. Except, he was currently too focused on controlling his anger to satisfy that need.

Waiting for just the right moment, even taking several years, was admirable of a businessman. Most of their kind wanted to see immediate results. There was hardly anything on this planet earth that could be obtained so efficiently. To have such patience to map out what would happen within the next couple of years was impressive, even for an Ootori.

That was the family flaw. They allowed the fame of their name to go to their heads, and they began to feel the pressure of having to be a big corporation. It wasn't about quality anymore. It was about quantity and speed; both of which are impossible to maintain when quality was a priority. And so they looked for quick fixes that resulted in damage. Akito was probably the most brilliant out of the three siblings, as difficult as it was to admit.

"You're not giving him the respect he deserves."

"Respect?" sputtered Yuuichi. He was quiet for a moment, eyes searching Kyouya's face before he began to laugh. "You think that a boy like Akito deserves respect? What has he ever done to deserve that respect? He's always been a spineless, lazy coward. You're infuriating, Kyouya, but you're not lazy. You're shrewd and manipulative. I can respect that. But Akito is out of the question. He doesn't belong in this world. Our world. He isn't strong enough to think of bringing down both corporations."

"I'm starting to see," began Kyouya as he set his cup of coffee down on the table, "why he would want to spite you in the first place. You're insufferable."

He could see Haruhi stand, and Tamaki place a firm hand at her shoulder to stop her from interfering. He could also see Yuuichi's fists clench, and ears turn red. The tall-tell sign his control of his temper was slipping. But what surprised him was not that Yuuichi did not stand to punch him. Rather, an expected visitor came through the door, the likeness of their genes not unnoticed.

"Discussing my plans, then, I assume?" Akito leered as he joined them. He turned the chair around and threw a leg over it in the most casual of manners. Their father would have been appalled. "Don't keep me out of the loop then."

* * *

Morinozuka Takashi watched Tamaki struggled to keep Haruhi seated as they felt tension rise between Kyouya and Yuuichi. In all honesty, there was nothing to worry about. It was an intense banter of wills and perspectives, but Yuuichi was never the type to be confrontational. That was always what was so unique about Kyouya. The Ootori family consisted of members of a passive bunch of businessmen. The dirty work, the confrontation, was done by others at a high price. Kyouya, on the other hand, deviated away from the Ootori Armed Guards and handled affairs privately and efficiently.

At least, Takashi thought as he handed Mitsukuni a napkin (they needn't bother putting up a façade of Mitsukuni's inability for self-hygiene now that the Host Club was over, but he couldn't help but lend a helping hand sometimes), Kyouya was one who could handle himself.

Takashi sensed the aura before he saw the person, and he was mildly surprised that the aura didn't quite match the person's face. He'd always prided himself on being observant—perhaps even more observant than Kyouya—so this sudden shift in Akito hardly seemed sensible. Still, there was something that was still inherently Akito that Takashi wondered if this aura had been hidden at all, or were they just tricked into seeing, into sensing, what they wanted to see, or rather, what he wanted them to see?

If so, Takashi felt a chill walk his spine, this man was also innately dangerous. Far more dangerous than they gave him credit.

Akito's blatant disregard for their high-society mannerisms made Mitsukuni stop enjoying his cake. The man's hazel eyes narrowed and shot in the direction of the Ootori brothers, the cake on his fork forgotten. Haruhi froze too, eyes wide at the spontaneous show of wills, and Tamaki sat down in his seat, staring. The café was silent now, its patrons all waited with bated breath at the next unfolding of events.

"Akito," Yuuichi murmured, angry. Takashi watched Kyouya's expression carefully. Blank. "What are you doing here?"

"It was at the request," Akito waved his hand carelessly, "of my wife." A toothed grin was shot at the stiffened Yuuichi. "So, you see, I could not refuse."

"Stop," Kyouya spoke up. "Stop baiting him."

Akito's sharp eyes turned to Kyouya's direction and Takashi could hear Haruhi fidget in her seat.

"My dearest little brother, how have you been lately?"

"Where is Reiko-san?" Kyouya ignored the sarcastic pleasantries.

"You wouldn't think I'd hurt her," Akito sounded hurt and appalled. "I love her."

"Yes, yes," Kyouya said. "Where is she?"

"At home."

"How would she know that Big Brother and I were meeting up?"

"You underestimate her."

"No." Kyouya shook his head. "We don't underestimate either one of you."

"What have you done to Reiko?" Yuuichi's cool exterior was cracking rapidly. Like ice cracking at the first sign of spring. It's loud, hazardous, and there was something brewing underneath, fighting to be released from its confines. Takashi has seen men with hidden passions that were locked away for so long that it became a poison. Those beautiful, fleeting emotions bottled up until venom became the only bottle that could handle its overwhelming toxicity.

"Nothing." Akito raised his hands innocently. "She and I have reached the next stage of our marriage."

"And what is that?" Teeth and fists clenched, shoulders stiff and square, Yuuichi looked like a balloon ready to pop.

"What is what?" Akito raised an eyebrow. "What is the next stage, you mean?"

"Brother," Kyouya attempted to take Akito's attention away from the spiraling Yuuichi.

"Don't stop him, Kyouya," Yuuichi spat, "I want to hear what this bastard has to say."

"Are you sure? I don't know if you'd be able to handle it."

Takashi stood from the table as he sensed Yuuichi's energy skyrocket, but was surprised to find Yuuichi swallow it again. He always underestimated the Ootori family's self-control. This innate personality trait is a gift, but Takashi didn't know whether or not it was good for their sanity.

Kyouya let out a sigh and Takashi could see his eyes wander towards their table. Takashi followed his gaze, that gentle gaze reserved only for the one person who could make Ootori Kyouya who he was now, and could see Haruhi smile weakly at him in response.

"Brother, surely we can work this out peacefully. There are people with livelihoods at stake. I would rather not involve them in our petty problems."

"Kyouya," Akito said, twirling his finger at him in mockery, "has anyone told you that you've become such a bore since you've gotten back together with that dull, peasant girl?"

Takashi's first instincts were to rush over to restrain Kyouya, but he found himself keeping Tamaki down instead. And Kyouya, with his ever calculating eyes, shifted over to Haruhi who gave him a shrug.

The youngest sibling's eyebrow rose, and then he broke out in jovial laughter.

"Is that all you've got, Brother?" Kyouya laughed behind his hand, attempting to maintain some dignity. "All I asked of you was to settle this between ourselves—as brothers. Bringing other lives into this equation is immoral. And all you could reply with was a cheap shot at my love life?"

"Since when did you care for morality?"

"Since I was with Haruhi."

"So easily influenced by a woman," grumbled Yuuichi.

"Says the man who was too stubborn to marry the woman that he continues to pine for after she had chosen his younger brother for a husband?" Kyouya's tone was light and playful, but the words stung. "But we are drifting from the matter at hand, I believe." He leaned back against his seat, his arms crossed. "Brother, I believe you owe us an explanation."

"Not much to explain—what you see is pretty straightforward," Akito shrugged as he leaned back in his seat and slung it over the back. "I intend to take down both of your companies. That is that."

"Surely we can negotiate something—," began Yuuichi.

"Doubtful."

"You bought a number of shares for a struggling tourism company several weeks ago," Kyouya pulled out papers from his briefcase. "I was under the impression that you were helping someone that was once very close to Reiko. But she doesn't know, does she?"

"No, but I don't see how that is any of your concern."

"But it is," Kyouya interjected. "Your rash decision to purchase those shares disable you from taking over both companies. That's what you're doing, isn't it? You're buying time until you have enough resources to take that final step." Kyouya leaned in suddenly and Takashi couldn't hear any more. All he knew was that Akito's eyes widened and then leaned back in his chair to laugh.

"You _are_ amusing, Ootori Kyouya. It seems I've underestimated you, little brother. And here I thought you'd be running to your little Host Club for help."

Kyouya smiled, though not without a hint of mischievousness, "Is that a deal?"

"Surely you know me better than that," Akito tsked, crossing his arms across his chest the way Yuuichi had them now.

"I do," Kyouya agreed. "And you'll surrender."

Akito gave Kyouya a hard look. It was scrutinizing. One that Takashi had seen on his father before when Satoshi was born. It was the look of a skeptic. Fortunately, Satoshi had been too young to remember it, but Takashi never forgot. He was relieved that Satoshi turned out so well, but he had always made it a point to make sure that Satoshi never felt those judging looks of predestined disappointment and failure. Deep down, he was happy that Satoshi didn't end up like the Ootori siblings.

"You're asking me to relinquish my need to destroy the two of you?"

"No." Kyouya shook his head. "I'm threatening you to."

If there was one thing that the Ootoris lacked, decorum was never one. They were truly high class, down to the very button they wore on their shirts. So when Akito stood to deck the youngest Ootori in the face in a public vicinity, Takashi wondered, as he rushed forward to pull Akito back, if he knew anything at all, and if his observation skills were as good as he thought they were.

"Who do you think you are?" Akito panted from adrenaline, struggling uselessly in Takashi's hold. "Who the _hell_ do you think you are?"

Haruhi had gotten up when Takashi had. She was at Kyouya's side now, nursing his head carefully, inspecting him for any sustaining injuries. Takashi could see the dark purple bruise coming in around his eye, but couldn't see much else as Akito started flailing about angrily. Takashi was only vaguely aware that Tamaki had kept Hani back, and some of the customers had started screaming. Others were quiet, obvious in their curiosity and disgust.

Kyouya didn't say anything as he held Haruhi's hand.

"Akito," Yuuichi said as he stood, unfazed by the violent exchange. "Father won't be pleased."

"He never is," Akito spat. "Stop being his little lapdog and wake up, Big Brother. You're just a carbon copy of our dilapidating father."

Akito pulled out of Takashi's loosening grip and made his way out the door. The rest of the customers eventually returned to their conversations as Yuuichi stood and as Haruhi talked to Kyouya quietly.

"Why didn't you dodge?" she scolded lightly as she pressed an ice pack—generously given by one of the waitresses with whom Haruhi befriended—to his eye. "I know you. You're quicker than he is, and you saw it coming. You even took off your glasses as his fist came at you."

"He needed it," Kyouya said. He nodded his appreciation to Takashi, and Takashi could only give him a grim smile. He returned to Hani as Tamaki rushed over to Kyouya and Haruhi. He couldn't hear the rest of their conversation, though he doubted that much happened anyway since Yuuichi just gave Kyouya a curt nod, but it gave him much to ponder about, even on their way home.

As he lay in bed that night, his mind went over to Kyouya's sibling rivalry, hoping to someone somewhere that Akito would wake up and go out to pursue something worthwhile.

"Big Brother?" Satoshi spoke up from the other side of their room.

"Yes, Satoshi?"

"Thanks for being a great big brother," the younger boy said after much pause.

Takashi fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Again, I need to apologize for such a long wait! Work has been extremely busy lately as they've added four new classes onto my schedule. That definitely doubles my lesson planning time and homework grading time. I'll try to be better at it. Also going through life problems (as lemons are abundant), and I'm struggling to find motivation to make lemonade with them. (Also, I seem to have run out of sugar. Is there anyone out there who would be kind enough to lend some to me?) I'm better now. Thanks for your patience, and thanks to those who have been by my side!

Here, for the sake of convenience using the English language, Kyouya calls Yuuichi his "Big Brother" and Akito "Brother." Also, Satoshi is Takashi's little brother; kind, laid-back, and devoted to Hani's little brother, Yasuchika.

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	26. Wonderful Life

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating:** PG  
**Written for:** my birthday. Or just in time for it anyway! As a present to you amazing readers—thanks for sticking by me when I first started out, and if you're new to my writing, thanks for reading!  
**Dedicated to:** mtnikolle, DarkRavie, irgroomer, Orchidellia, Bubblybunny153, TobiSaru/Ale, and greetingsfrommaars—thank you lovelies for always encouraging me, always giving me deeper insights to how these chapters/the story makes you feel. I read, reply, and save every one of them!

_Tanaka's girl:_ Thanks so much for always reading and reviewing! Getting a review helps with improving moods-and I'm glad that you've enjoyed how I've portrayed the Ootori siblings. Thanks so much for your support :)

**Warning:** Beware of OOCness. Not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...but I think they're okay with me borrowing these characters for a little bit. I mean, psh, ain't like they've got anything else to do with 'em!

**Endless Story**

_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_

By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twenty-six:**

_But there's something in the air_

_They share a look in silence_

_And everything is understood_

_And Suzy grabs the man_

_And puts a grip on his hand_

_As the rain puts a tear in his eyes_

_And she says:  
_

"_Don't let go_

_Never give up_

_It's such a wonderful life"_

("Wonderful Life" by Hurts)

No one at the office mentioned anything about his black eye. Not that Haruhi hadn't tried to cover it with make-up, but it would have taken too much time, and there was no point in trying to cover it up anyway. He rescheduled the only appointment he had that day, and only had a phone conference early in the morning. Given the few stares at the beginning of the day, he had no doubts that those first few people had warned the rest of the staff to be particularly non-reactive.

"Great staff," Tamaki commented as he seated himself on the deep red chair in front of Kyouya's mahogany desk. "They didn't say anything."

"Would you?"

"No," Tamaki chuckled. "Too afraid to imagine why my boss has a black eye to say anything."

Kyouya gave a chuckle as he handed over a manila folder. Tamaki took it without comment and began to sift through it. As Tamaki read the contents of the folder, Kyouya continued sending out emails.

"Are you sure?" Tamaki said, as he reached the end of the documents. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," Kyouya answered, not bothering to reprimand Tamaki for second-guessing his intentions, or even more bizarre, asking him if he second-guessed his _own_ intentions. "As you can see, everything is ready."

"Have you talked to Haruhi about this?"

"I will at dinner tonight."

"Where will you take her?"

"You know she doesn't like to eat out. I'll be cooking."

Tamaki shook his head as he chuckled. He tucked the manila folder into his briefcase as he said, "You've changed, Kyouya."

"Have I?"

Tamaki paused and thought for a long moment, "No, I don't suppose you have. She just allows you to release your true self." Tamaki then gave him a wink. "And it's a romantic prince at that."

Kyouya just shook his head as Tamaki bounded out of the door gaily.

The buzzer rang.

"Yes, Yuki?" Kyouya replied to his secretary's call.

"Mr. Ootori Senior is on line one, sir."

"Yes, thank you."

Kyouya stared at the blinking red button for a moment before he pressed the number, "Yes, this is Ootori Kyouya."

"Kyouya." His father's voice was unmistakable. So was the disappointment. "What is this I hear about the Asakura Corporation?"

"And what have you heard?"

"A merger with the Nekozawa Corporation? That is absurd!"

"I'm unaware of whom your sources are," Kyouya said, leaning back in his chair, "but that's faulty information."

"Excuse me?"

"You're wrong," Kyouya emphasized every word carefully. "They are not merging."

There was a heated silence on the other end, and Kyouya secretly relished in it. It was a rare opportunity to be able to say those words to his father. He only wished they were meeting in person; he would have loved to see the expression on his father's face.

"Surely you have something up your sleeve. I know you, Kyouya; I raised you most of your life."

"Interesting perspective." Kyouya was willing to take the bait, and then spit it right out at his father's face. "I beg to differ."

He knew the Ootori family far too well. Any discussions that weren't business related weren't worth bringing up at the dinner table. Telephone conversations included. He could be as blunt as he wanted, and Ootori Yoshio would brush it aside like he would a spider web in his way. He used to hate it when he was a child, because there were things he didn't understand about his family. His brothers, even at their young age, never got along particularly well, so the only person who would have been willing to give him answers was his father. Unfortunately for the young Ootori Kyouya, Ootori Yoshio was notorious for dodging any question regarding something as personal as family matters.

"What are you up to, Kyouya?" His father's frustration made Kyouya smirk.

"It doesn't concern you, obviously," Kyouya replied. "I've got other plans for the Ootori Corporation."

"Step away from these matters, Kyouya—you've already surrendered your right to be involved in the family business."

"Was this call just to warn me?" Kyouya laughed. "A waste."

There was a shuffle through the receiver before the voice changed, "Kyouya. You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Yuuichi the lapdog. Kyouya wondered if it had become a permanent nickname.

"The both of you seem fairly certain that I am incapable. Allow me to assure you that you are wrong."

"Your ego will be the death of you, Kyouya."

"If you are worried that I hadn't figured out about Mother, allow me to clear away your misconceptions."

Yuuichi was silent, and Kyouya found this opportunity to gloat a little, "Had it been such a colossal secret, her disappearance would have been covered better."

There was a knock at the door, and Kyouya could see Haruhi poke her head in. Instantly, he felt a flash of regret pass through his stomach.

"Regardless, the Asakura Corporation has already signed a merger. I can't see how that is any of your concern."

Haruhi slipped into the room. She gestured for him to continue, but Kyouya highly doubted that there would be much more to the conversation.

"The Asakura Corporation is a part of the Ootori Corporation!" Yuuichi hissed at him.

"But which company is the one attempting to keep the other afloat?" Kyouya retaliated. "I believe you belong to the Asakura Corporation, by definition."

"The Ootori Corporation is not so—" began Yuuichi.

"I'd say it was an ideal move on the Asakura's part in the interest of keeping the Ootori Corporation afloat. But there's no need to worry any further, Big Brother," Kyouya watched as Haruhi sat down on the chair in front of him. "And you can tell Father that he needn't concern about the Ootori Corporation either."

He set the phone down with a click, though not without having heard a curse word bleed from the receiver before then. He smiled at Haruhi warmly, realizing that had she not been in the room, he would have lost his temper with his eldest brother. She was certainly very good for anyone with problems with high blood pressure. Fortunately, he needn't worry about that right now.

"Haru."

"Clever ruse, Ootori Kyouya," she said quietly, eyes shining at him in a way that was slightly off-putting.

His eyebrows rose, "What do you mean?"

"How many birds have you killed with such few stones you have in your pocket?" Haruhi stood, and Kyouya was suddenly made aware that she was a woman. Not that he hadn't noticed before, but the difference between then and now was that _she's_ noticed. She was never fully aware of her femininity before, but she stood now, in front of him, as a woman. He wondered if he had simply just missed this transformation because he'd been too busy. And if that was the case, shame on him.

"I figured it out this morning," Haruhi continued, "since you wouldn't tell me your plans for the two corporations."

"Oh?" Kyouya had no need to feign interest. He was enjoying himself.

"You saved Renge from a horrible job at the Asakura Corporation by having Nekozawa-senpai convince her father to begin a publishing company. You know Nekozawa-senpai would hit it off with her father. And this publishing company will no doubt succeed within the next few months. But a company like that requires backers, financial backers, especially, to get it started. And this is where the Asakura Corporation comes in. It will succeed, and it will bring in enough revenue to support itself and the Asakura Corporation. With the Asakura Corporation very comfortably financed with the help of Renge's publishing company, there will be no need for them to participate in the Black Market, as that was a risky deal in and of itself. And I have no doubts that you've dealt with the Black Market personally to make sure that the corporation gets a clean break."

Kyouya was silent as he watched her talk smoothly, voice low, head held high. He leaned back in his chair to observe her some more as she began to stroll about the room.

"But that leaves the Ootori Corporation. Surely, you wouldn't allow your family's prestigious company to be financially dependent on Asakura, so you've planned to create a partnership between them and a company overseas." Her eyes shifted back to his and she offered him a smile. "Your family isn't so adverse to overseas partnerships. After all, they've always done well overseas. They have no reason to turn down this opportunity."

Kyouya didn't hurry to respond to her observations. She's always got a keen eye, but he didn't realize that over the course of the past couple of weeks, her eyes were not only trained to look through people, but through motives and plans of action. There was a swell of pride within him. He'd always known that she was special, but he never knew just how well she fit with him, and how well he with her.

He stood now, and strode over to her, gazing down into her wide eyes. Not innocent anymore—or perhaps they've never been innocent, they've just chosen to perceive differently. There was a complexity of emotion when he registered the loss of that doe-eyed innocence, but he couldn't imagine himself loving her any less. If anything—he took a deep breath—he loved her more for it.

Possibilities were an Ootori's advantage. Even the slightest chance, regardless of the percentage of success, can (and will) be a deal breaker. Kyouya used that to its maximum potential. Or rather, he usually did. This time though, he wondered why he couldn't take advantage of this possibility. It didn't feel right.

"Kyouya," Haruhi said, snapping him out of his reverie, "What will you do after this is all settled for the Ootori and Asakura Corporations?"

"Indeed," he murmured, more to himself than to her, as he reached out to push away a strand of her hair, "What will I do?"

"You would have completed your goal," Haruhi continued, absentmindedly allowing her fingers to dance across the back of his hand. "What's next? Staying here to make sure the companies do well?"

"No," Kyouya answered immediately. "How they choose to maximize their benefits is entirely their doing. I will have nothing left here."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." He couldn't believe how easy it was to say.

"The twins? Tamaki? Nekozawa-senpai?"

"They are close friends, but they aren't anchoring factors in whether or not I stay here. We'll always find each other. I'm not worried about that at all."

"I see."

"Why do you ask?"

Haruhi smiled at him, "Let's sit down."

They spent the next hour discussing Haruhi's sudden e-mail and the request that came with it. A previous professor and mentor of hers had heard about the incident at Haruhi's own firm. When Haruhi left the United States for this small errand, she had referred her clients to a reliable friend and previous classmate. During the time in which Haruhi was in Japan, the said friend had dinner with the professor, and it was discussed that there was a case that which she was needed back in the States.

Kyouya watched her as she talked. There was always something new when it came to talking with Fujioka Haruhi. She was excited about this—a little frightened, a little intimidated, perhaps—but she wanted to return to the States and work on the case with her professor. She wanted to continue her own law firm afterwards, and settle down there.

He had absolutely no qualms or quibbles with her dreams. He's never did. And none of her plans would ever interfere with his, because all he's ever wanted was to support her and be near her. It was easy for him, too, since he's long began his own company. It was doing fairly well as it was, and he knew, somehow, back then, that it would never be based in Japan.

Even though things didn't go as he had planned after finding her in the United States of America, or with his brothers or their corporations, he felt that things are how they should be, and nothing, no meticulous planning, no scheming of his could have gotten them to where they should be. And wasn't that what was important?

"And I was wondering, Kyouya," Haruhi began, but she stopped suddenly.

He waited patiently, but she made no move to continue.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering," and then she trailed off again. He gave a chuckle and reached out to take her hand.

"Why don't we talk more about this over dinner? I'll be home early today."

"Sure," Haruhi laughed nervously before she waved and left his office as swift as she came.

When he returned home, he found Haruhi asleep on the couch. Her face was nuzzled into the crook of her arm, so he covered her with a light blanket and set to make dinner. He had originally thought of contacting Satoshi, their sushi chef, but thought better of it. Satoshi was the type of man who was unpredictable, and when it came to big announcements, always ended up mussing up original plans. And this was one plan he wasn't willing to risk.

He's always wanted to marry her. She was the only woman that he could imagine being with. Forever and beyond that. There could be no one else. If she was gone from him, he would never look at anyone else, even with her blessing. But there has always been the problem with whether or not she wanted to get married, whether she felt the same way. It was nerve-wracking, even for him.

"Kyouya?" He heard her over from the couch. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I figured you needed some rest; I'm almost done with dinner."

There was a spot of silence before he could hear her pitter-pattering towards the kitchen.

"At least let me set the table?"

"Why don't you wash up?" he suggested as he took the plates down from the cupboard. "I'm almost done."

She laughed and left, though not without gazing back at him as she disappeared around the corner. He finished setting the table and stood by the table, deep in thought as he waited for Haruhi.

Ideally, he would see through the Ootori Corporation's signing of the contract with the Minami Group. Then, they'd finish whatever it is they need in Japan before returning to the States. It would take them a week at most. However, if Kyouya were completely honest, he was dreading the speculation that Akito and Yuuichi wouldn't be going down without a fight. Reiko had already agreed to Kyouya's terms—whether it was for her company's well-being or her own sanity, he was unclear—but that wasn't any indication that Akito would just take this turn of events lying down.

Haruhi came out, having changed out of her casual business attire into a comfortable sweater and jeans. With his heart in his throat, he wordlessly pulled out the chair for her. A soft, cold wind came through the balcony, and Kyouya made a mental note that they'll have to eat inside from now on.

It was a quiet meal—they've done enough talking for the day. Though even in their early days, they weren't big talkers. And somehow, things were better now. Felt better now. All of the puzzle pieces have fallen into place.

"You know," Haruhi spoke up, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I've always wondered something."

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you keep in touch? I thought, when we separated, that even though the romance was over, it didn't mean that the friendship was."

Kyouya gave a small, bitter laugh, "I was afraid you wouldn't want to be friends anymore."

"So you figured it would be better to cut things off completely?"

"Silly, isn't it?"

"Yes." Her voice was firm. "Very silly."

"Haruhi," he spoke as they finished their meal. She smiled at him with encouragement. "When I went to find you in America, I thought to myself that, even if you turned down helping Akito, it would be worth it to see you. Just to see how you were. It was silly, and selfish of me. I took into account, briefly, how it may pain you to see me again, but I still went. I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I did cause you pain, showing up unexpected at your door, didn't I?"

"Well, yes," Haruhi said as her eyes glowed like small, but strong, stars blazing in darkness. It was filled with such a mixture of emotions that Kyouya wasn't quite sure what she was thinking. Or perhaps it was just the way the lights strung above them reflected in them? "But it was pretty much all self-inflicted. And, in any case, I am so very glad you did."

Kyouya clenched his fists as he fought the urge to reach over and embrace her tightly.

He took a deep breath, willed his mind at ease, and said, "Haruhi, there's nothing in the world that would make me as happy as I am right now. And even though there are times where I believed that I don't deserve any of this, you've always shown me that I do. I'd like to say that it's more than I deserve, but you've made me realize that I can become the person who deserves you, even if it takes me the rest of my life to prove that to you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little blue box. Haruhi's eyes grew wide as did her smile. She waited, hands crossed on her lap.

He had debated, weeks ago, whether or not he'd get down on one knee to propose to her. When he presented this problem to Tamaki, and then Nekozawa, on separate occasions, they smiled at him in a very Hitachiin way and told him to figure it out himself. And as he sat, pondering the perfect moment one night—while she sat at her easel—he discovered that she would have preferred him not to. She was a modern woman, though not to say she wasn't traditional in some sense, but there was something about equality and balance for her. Putting her on a pedestal so long ago made her uncomfortable, and right now, at this crucial moment, he wanted her in as much ease as possible.

"Haruhi, will you marry me?"

The brunette said nothing as she slowly stood and made her way around the table.

It was troubling him now, as he made the quick, epiphanic observation that the entire reason he went to find her hadn't been for his own sake. It had been in the sake of his family, and that he had not planned nor intended to be so blessedly back in her life.

Don't you think, a little voice in his head said, there was a part of you that wanted to have her back with you when you went to find her?

Kyouya smiled to himself as Haruhi settled in his arms, eyes shining as she whispered her answer in his ear.

_Yes._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whoo hoo! Still took a while to get this chapter out, but not as long as the previous chapters! Doing what I do for a living, I get asked my age at least once a day. I never fail to feel old among the little ones. But, let's face it, I'm still a kid at heart. Just stuck in an older body!

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


	27. Still Alive

**Pairing:** KyouyaxHaruhi  
**Rating: **PG  
**Written for: **celebration of my vacation coming up! I figured I should post this before I head on vacation :)  
**Dedicated to:** irgroomer, greetingsfrommaars, DarkRavie, mtnikolle, xKireyy, Orchidellia, TobiSaru, mfaerie32 (for reviewing chapter 2—so early in the story! It's been years since the first couple of chapters! So thanks!), Bubblybunny153. Thank you all for following my story for so long! What would I do without amazing readers like you all?

Tanaka's girl: ah, your kind words really made me squee on the inside. Thanks so much for following me through this fanfic. Really, without readers like you, what would us authors do with ourselves? Thank you for appreciating my writing—you have no idea how much that means to me! HUGHUGHUGHUGHUGHUG.

**Warning:** Beware of OOCness. Not BETA'd...sorry for little mistakes here and there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...and I'm almost done, so please let me borrow them for a little longer!

**Endless Story  
**_A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale_**  
**By, Yue Guang Kuroneko

**Chapter Twenty-seven:**

_Just sunshine and blue sky  
Is this all we get  
For living here?_

_Come fire, come fire  
Let it burn and love come racing through_

_Oh I'm still alive  
I'm still alive  
I can't apologize, no_

_I've learnt to lose  
I've learnt to win  
I turn my face against the wind  
_("Still Alive" by Lisa Miskovsky (Mirror's Edge OST))

For once, the office was quiet, desolated. Everyone had gone home for the holidays. She felt generous this year. And, if she were honest with herself, it was also because there was no point in them working this holiday season. They all had plenty to be thankful for, and they should be home to celebrate their fortunes—after all, they were all financially secure now.

Reiko sat back in her chair, staring at her computer screen. The numbers were high and doing fairly well. Though, 'fairly well' was just a mild way for her to give the youngest Ootori credit. They were doing extremely well. She didn't understand why no one had saw it before. The fan base was certainly a dangerous force to be reckoned with, but she did have to hand it to the Houshakuji girl for handling her business so flawlessly. It takes a fan to know one.

Their relations with the Black Market were stopped, though not by the request of the Asakura Corporation. He was clever, that black sheep. He knew that businesspeople were greedy, and he knew that there was no way her board of directors would ever allow her to pull out of their Black Market schemes. After all, it was also a source of 'income', and with the Houshakuji Publishing Group doing so well, they would have doubled, even tripled, their profits. They would never have been able to pull out of the Black Market had the youngest Ootori not used his own ridiculous power to threaten them. She had no doubts that Ootori Kyouya was a genius.

That put her in a rather difficult position, having admitted that. She dropped the pen in her hands and used it to cover her eyes, massaging lightly away the ache that settled in them. She really ought to thank him. She wasn't so prideful that she wasn't willing to thank someone for improving her company, but this was Ootori Kyouya. Nothing is ever really that simple with him.

Or perhaps, she was overthinking things? Perhaps Ootori Kyouya, by some madness, was simply a good person, just horribly misunderstood. That would explain why the little commoner girl was attracted to him. Most commoners were unable to handle high society without strong convictions and motives. Most of them survive only through money. But this woman—his woman—didn't seem the type to be superficial enough to stay with a man just for his money. Also, Reiko highly doubted that Kyouya would choose such a wife. After all, he held his moral standpoints at high regard. There could be no one else who matched him. Except Fujioka Haruhi.

Reiko, despite her vanity, was curious about the woman. Even high society women had troubles keeping Ootori Kyouya at bay. He was a free spirit, for lack of a better, less whimsical, word. He refused to be tied down to a singular person. He was far too practical, far too emotionless and cold for that. Or at least, that's what she originally thought. By further examination, Kyouya was also very passionate.

Reiko gave a laugh as she stood to pour herself a glass of wine. The Ootori sons were all cold marble on the surface, but blazing fires within. It was almost infuriating. Especially when it came to her husband, Akito.

She married him, originally, out of convenience and fear. Her involvement with Yuuichi had gotten deep. Far deeper than she had imagined, and she wasn't ready to risk it. She feared becoming so involved that emotions would get in the way of business and it would cause disappointment. So she cut off all emotion and settled for marrying the weakest Ootori. It had been a splendid idea at the time. He was extremely easy to manipulate, and push, and pull, and mold. But, she smiled to herself slightly bitterly, she was the one being played all along.

Akito was nothing like Yuuichi. Where Yuuichi was calculating and logical and rational, Akito was spontaneous and ridiculous and unpredictable. The past couple of months really changed how she saw him. She couldn't determine whether or not she was happy or upset by her discoveries.

Her husband was never the type of person to throw away a challenge. All Ootoris were like that, in fact, with the exception of the weaker Yuuichi, but Yuuichi had never been weak when they were in high school. In fact, she remembered him as the complete opposite. When did he start 'settling' for things that were within reach?

Even now, with the ever loom of Ootori Kyouya's presence (or reminder of said presence) in their lives, Akito was working hard for something. She wasn't quite aware of what, but he had, surprisingly, given up his need for revenge. He had buckled down to help her with the Asakura Corporation (as opposed to destroying it.) He had requested, however, that he had no matter with any future Asakura-Ootori business.

She raked her brain for the moment Akito had his sudden change of heart. It was out of character for him, for most humans, but it wasn't unheard of either. It must have been when Ootori Kyouya visited them before he and Haruhi returned to the States. Reiko made a mental note to RSVP to their wedding in a few months. It was a conscious, not quite so painful, choice. They were, after all, family.

She willed her brain to return to the subject at hand.

Before Kyouya left for the States, his visit was simple and to the point. Akito was on his guard as Kyouya and Haruhi stepped out of the car. Reiko noted that Kyouya was the one driving. They did not utilize a driver. She invited them into the tea room and the help poured tea as the brothers sat at the table in stony silence. Meanwhile, she and Haruhi had a very comfortable talk on the couch about the wedding. It was going to be simple, Haruhi said, unashamed of the low-costs. Reiko remembered feeling envious at the woman's confidence in herself. There was no pressure to be accepted or liked by anyone else. It must have been liberating.

As for the brothers, it seemed that neither woman needed to worry. Kyouya was cordial. Distant, perhaps, but not unkind. He simply handed some documents over to Akito, said a few words, and motioned to Haruhi that he was done. She handed Reiko an invitation, an understanding smile, and they left as quietly as they came.

Her cell phone buzzed and she reached over to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"At the office."

"I'll come up and get you."

"That's all right. I'll finish up and come down."

"Nonsense. I'm already in the elevator."

"All right."

"See you soon, darling."

Reiko blushed lightly as she hung up. Akito was affectionate with the change that was brought upon by his younger brother's visit. It was rather out-of-character for him. Reiko gave a sudden laugh as she realized she used a term that the Houshakuji girl had been ranting about a week or so ago. Something about delaying print because whoever had been in charge of drawing the comic made the character too "out-of-character." Of course, Reiko was supposed to be concerned with delay printing—that cost money. She found herself amused, actually, and didn't mind losing the money, just so long as it was made back tenfold by recreating the character to be "in-character." Whatever that meant.

She wasn't unhappy. Sure, she had a very special place in her heart for the oldest Ootori. She will always, and forever, love him. But…

Akito strolled through the doors, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, revealing the crisp blue shirt underneath, tie undone. She watched him as she stood behind her chair, scanning him with her eyes. She lifted her eyes and met his, dusty-brown eyes and could have sworn that there were some gold flecks in them. She wondered, briefly, why she hadn't noticed them before, and then ceased to wonder as he came around the desk and stood over her.

"Are you ready?" he murmured as he brushed a light kiss on her cheek. She shuddered. He suddenly became concerned. "Are you cold?" He immediately placed his suit jacket around her shoulders with such ease that she could have sworn they were in a romance movie. Not that she's ever watched such frivolous and unrealistic films.

Her husband was an enigma. Surely, surely, there was something wrong with her. Most women would think that it was natural for her to react to her husband. It was only natural. But she wasn't most women. She would never sink so low as to allow her emotions to take over her rational mind. And she should never allow her emotions to cloud the fact that this man was the man who had plotted for years to bring down her family's company, as well as his own.

"You think too much," he chuckled as he brought her body in close.

"Why did you want to destroy my company, Akito?"

He paused as he surveyed her face closely. Seeing that she was honestly curious, he let out a sigh and seated himself on her chair. He pulled her down to settle in his lap, and he held her tightly.

"I was angry," he said after a long pause. "Irrevocably angry. Or so I thought."

"With what?"

Reiko was uncomfortable. She's never had a conversation that required the exploration of feelings and truth. This was uncharted territory. She wasn't sure she liked it. She wasn't ever sure about anything when it came to Akito.

"With life," he answered vaguely with a distant look in his eyes. "With many, many things."

"That's not vague at all," Reiko's sarcasm caused him to chuckle.

"Is this something you'd want to hear, Rei?"

"Was it because of Yuuichi?"

At the sound of his brother's name, she could feel his arms tighten around her, as if possessive of her. It immediately set off a strange sensation in her stomach, one that clenched and fluttered.

"Yes." Akito was quiet for a moment. "I've always liked you, Reiko, from the moment I set eyes on you at Ouran. Don't laugh—I know it's cliché." His voice was teasing, but his eyes darkened. "And when you married me, I knew that you never cared for me. I was angry with myself, at Yuuichi for letting you go so easily, and at you for not being honest with yourself. I could never amount to anything, not when there were Kyouya and Yuuichi as competition. I'm a possessive man, Rei. I won't give anything up for anyone."

Accustomed to Akito's vague speech patterns and mysterious demeanor, Reiko was surprised he was so honest about himself. She slipped her hands into his.

"So what compelled you to marry me and then ruin both my company and your father's?"

"Marrying you was out of my own selfishness. You chose me, but not because you loved me. I was consumed by jealous rage. How could my brother have such hold on you even after he left you?" He shook his head. "I couldn't comprehend it. I started to resent the both of you for having put me in this position. Wouldn't things have been easier had you just let him go and realized that I loved you?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "It's a gamble."

Akito gave a laugh, but he didn't continue. Reiko didn't mind. All she knew, seated in the darkness of her office, embraced in arms she didn't realize that she cared for, was that this was different. Different, but surprisingly unthreatening.

I wonder, she thought to herself as she lowered her head to rest her forehead on his, if this is what a partnership is like?

She'd always understood that a relationship is what goes on between a man and a woman. It could be filled with happiness, happily ever afters, bliss, and all those positive nouns, but she wasn't unrealistic enough to forget that with relationships came unrelationships—the relationships that rotted and became sour. Hence, her unwillingness to participate in any of those circumstances. What she and Yuuichi had, she realized back then, was a relationship. It had its ups and downs, and unfulfilled expectations. It was one pulling the other; each pulling the other so hard that they never moved, and the string they were pulling was so taut that they ended up having to be separated by force.

A partnership, on the other hand…

Reiko smiled suddenly, and pulling Akito's tie towards her, bent down to kiss him.

A partnership was what Ootori Kyouya and Fujioka Haruhi had. Rather than two people giving in to each other—they were two people who supported and complemented each other. They needn't sacrifice themselves to be with each other. They helped each other grow and become better versions of themselves. Now wasn't that the happily ever after that everyone was searching for?

"Why are you so honest today?"

Akito was silent, fingers playing with her hair as he pulled out pins to let her long hair down. He ran his fingers through it, tilted her head down, and kissed her again.

"Perhaps we should give Ootori Kyouya more credit," he murmured.

She raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"The documents he gave me included a note. A note that said that the reason he and Fujioka Haruhi were together again was due to honesty. Open honesty. Brutal, genuine honesty that broke them and healed them. He told me to give it a try."

"And what's your verdict?"

He smiled a naughty, impish grin that she'd never seen before on his face, closed all distance between them, and Reiko couldn't help but smile.

* * *

September 23

My dearest sister-in-law,

What wonderful news of your baby! Akito and I are disappointed we were unable to be there for her birth. Family acquaintances frivolously joked that the Ootori boys would be the type of fathers who were too busy with their empires to maintain any emotional connection with their offspring, but I believe that we know better than they do that the boys will be the ones to spoil them rotten. Give my best regards to Kyouya and little Emilie.

I write to you, not only to congratulate you on such a blessed addition to the family tree, but to keep you updated on Father's progress with his cancer, as you've asked so kindly in your previous letters. We believe that he's at his last now. It's a little difficult to write about, as I am unsure of how I feel about the situation, if I were to be truthful. The man as we knew him was stubborn, old-fashioned, and, let's be completely honest now, left plenty of uncountable emotional scars on his children. I don't think I've forgiven him for it yet. But I suppose it's about time I did.

He's not doing well, I'm afraid. Recently, he's been asking for you and Kyouya. It's not a request he's made consciously—he asks for you both in his sleep. When we inquired about it when he was awake, he denied it vehemently.

I know it's much to ask of you, especially with Emilie having been born not so long ago, but would it be possible for you to visit us? We'll make sure Emilie is comfortable with the flight over (and I can't deny that I'd love to see her.)

Please let us know. We really would love to see you; Father included.

Warmest regards,

Reiko

* * *

**Author's Note:** With Reiko and Akito as such catalysts for Endless Story, I figured it would be nice to wrap them up and giving them an entire chapter to themselves.

We're very nearly at the end, everyone! This has been one incredible journey with all of you—thanks, again and again, so much for your support, readership, and patience. I really wouldn't have been able to finish without you!

Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!


End file.
